UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 
AT  LOS  ANGELES 


THE   LOST  MANUSCRIPT. 


3623     10 


AT 
LOS  ANGELES 

LIBRARY 
THE 


LOST   MANUSCRIPT 


A  NOVEL 

BY 

GUSTAV  FREYTAG 


Authorized  Translation  from  the  Sixteenth  German  Edition 
COMPLETE  IN  ONE  VOLUME 


SECOND,   UNALTERED  EDITION 


PART  I 


"A  nolle  human  life  does  not  end  on  earth 
•with  death.  It  continues  in  the  minds  and 
the  deeds  of  friends,  as  well  as  in  the  thoughts 
and  the  activity  of  the  nation" 


CHICAGO 
THE  OPEN  COURT  PUBLISHING  COMPANY 

LONDON:  KBGAN  PAUL,  TRENCH,  TRUBBNBR  &  CO. 
1898 


1905 


TRANSLATION  COPYRIGHTED 

—  BY  — 

THE  OPEN  COURT  PUBLISHING  COMPANY, 
1887. 


f>  G  »>.  5 


TT 


l 


tltr 


PUBLISHERS'  PREFACE. 


GUSTAV  FREYTAG  has  expressed  the  central  idea  of 
his  novel  The  Lost  Manuscript  in  the  motto  which  he 
has  written  for  the  American  edition  : 

"A  noble  human  life  does  not  end  on  earth  with  death.  It 
continues  in  the  minds  and  the  deeds  of  friends,  as  well  as  in  the 
thoughts  and  the  activity  of  the  nation." 

This  idea  of  the  continuity  and  preservation  of 
soul-life  permeates  the  whole  work.  It  meets  us  at  every 
hand.  We  observe  the  professor  in  his  study,  ever  eager 
to  fathom  the  thoughts  of  the  great  thinkers  of  the  past 
and  imbuing  his  students  with  their  lofty  spirit.  We 
sympathize  with  the  heroine  of  this  novel,  the  strong, 
pious  Saxon  maiden,  in  her  religious  and  intellectual 
development ;  we  behold  her  soul  enlarging  under  the 
influence  of  unusual  and  trying  situations ;  we  watch  her 
mentally  growing  amid  the  new  ideas  crowding  in  upon 
her.  We  enjoy  the  droll  characterizations  of  the  half- 
educated,  of  Mrs.  Rollmaus  and  the  servants,  in  whose 
minds  the  mysteries  of  soul-life  appear  in  the  shape  of 
superstitious  notions.  And  we  see,  again,  the  conse- 
quences of  wrong-doing,  of  errors,  and  of  mistakes 
continuing  like  a  heavy  curse,  depressing  the  mind 
and  hindering  its  freedom.  And  this  last  provokes  a 


viii  PUBLISHERS'  PREFACE. 

wholesome  reaction  and  is  finally  conquered  by  un- 
shirking  courage  in  honest  spiritual  combat. 

Illustrations  of  psychical  laws  showing  the  con- 
nections and  continuity  of  the  threads  in  the  warp  and 
woof  of  human  soul-life,  are  found  indeed  in  all  the 
works  of  Gustav  Freytag.  The  great  novelist  antici- 
pated the  results  that  have  of  late  been  established  by 
the  experiments  of  modern  psychology.  He  says  in 
his  Autobiographical  Reminiscences: 

"What  a  man's  own  life  accomplishes  in  the  formation  of  his 
character,  and  the  extent  to  which  it  fully  develops  his  native  ca- 
pacities, we  observe  and  estimate  even  in  the  best  cases  only  with 
imperfect  knowledge.  But  still  more  difficult  is  it  to  determine  and 
comprehend  what  the  living  have  acquired  in  the  way  of  advance- 
ment and  hindrance  from  their  parents  and  ancestors ;  for  the 
threads  are  not  always  visible  that  bind  the  existence  of  the  present 
to  the  souls  of  generations  past ;  and  even  where  they  are  discern- 
ible, their  power  and  influence  are  scarcely  to  be  calculated.  Only 
we  notice  that  the  force  with  which  they  operate  is  not  equally  strong 
in  every  life,  and  that  sometimes  it  is  too  powerful  and  terrible. 

"  It  is  well  that  from  us  men  usually  remains  concealed,  what 
is  inheritance  from  the  remote  past,  and  what  the  independent 
acquisition  of  our  own  existence ;  since  our  life  would  become  full 
of  anxiety  and  misery,  if  we,  as  continuations  of  the  men  of  the 
past,  had  perpetually  to  reckon  with  the  blessings  and  curses  which 
former  times  leave  hanging  over  the  problems  of  our  own  existence. 
But  it  is  indeed  a  joyous  labor,  at  times,  by  a  retrospective  glance 
into  the  past,  to  bring  into  fullest  consciousness  the  fact  that 
many  of  our  successes  and  achievements  have  only  been  made  pos- 
sible through  the  possessions  that  have  come  to  us  from  the  lives 
of  our  parents,  and  through  that  also  which  the  previous  ancestra' 
life  of  our  family  has  accomplished  and  produced  for  us." 


PUBLISHERS'  PREFACE.  ix 

Is  not  this  a  revival  of  the  old  idea  of  the  transmi- 
gration of  souls?  To  be  sure,  the  soul  is  not  a  material 
thing  made  of  an  invisible  and  airy  substance,  fluttering 
about  after  death  and  entering  into  another  body. 
There  are  no  material  migrations  of  soul  taking  place, 
however  tenuous  the  substance  of  the  soul  might  be 
imagined  to  be.  The  memories  of  the  present,  our 
recollection  of  our  past  existence,  depend  on  the  fact 
that  the  living  matter  which  is  constantly  replacing  it- 
self in  us  by  other  living  matter,  like  the  water  in  a 
wave  rolling  on  the  surface  of  the  sea,  always  assumes 
the,  same  form.  It  is  the  form  that  is  constantly  repro- 
ducing. In  this  sense,  man  (that  is  his  soul)  is  the  pro- 
duct of  education.  The  soul  of  the  future  man  stands 
in  the  same  relation  to  our  soul  as  the  future  edition  of 
a  book,  revised  and  enlarged,  stands  to  its  present  edi- 
tion.* One  man  impresses  his  modes  of  thought,  his 
habits,  his  methods  of  action,  his  ideals  upon  his  fellow 
men,  and  thus  implants  his  very  soul  into  their  lives. 
In  this  sense  a  transmigration  of  souls  is  taking  place 
constantly,  and  he  who  opens  his  eyes  will  see  it.  No 
one  has  given  plainer  examples  of  this  truth  in  the 
pleasant  shape  of  novelistic  narration,  than  Gustav 
Freytag. 

The  Lost  Manuscript  is  in  more  than  one  respect  a 
representative  work,  incorporating  the  spirit  of  the 
times.  It  is  interesting  from  its  descriptions  of  Univer- 

*  Compare  the  library  scene  in  the  chapter  "  A  Day  of  Visits,"  Vol.  i, 
p.  265,  of  this  novel. 


x  PUBLISHERS'  PREFACE. 

sity  circles,  of  country  life,  and  of  the  vanity  fair  at 
the  smaller  princely  courts  of  Germany.  Yet  these 
interesting  descriptions  gain  in  value,  because  we  are 
taught  by  the  author  to  comprehend  the  secret  laws 
that  rule  the  growth  of,  and  determine  the  hidden  in- 
terconnections between,  the  souls  of  men. 

The  plot  of  The  Lost  Manuscript,  Gustav  Freytag 
briefly  characterizes  as  follows  : 

"  In  the  upright  soul  of  a  German  scholar,  through  the  wish  to 
discover  something  of  great  worth  for  knowledge,  are  cast  juggling 
shadows,  which,  like  as  moonlight  distorts  the  forms  in  the  land- 
scape, disturb  the  order  of  his  life,  and  are  at  last  overcome  only 
through  painful  experiences." 

Concerning  the  invention  of  the  plot  as  well  as  of 
the  characters  of  The  Lost  Manuscript,  the  following 
account  from  Gustav  Freytag's  Reminiscences  will  be 
of  interest: 

"  In  this  story  I  depicted  circles  of  life  that  were  familiar  to 
me  since  student  days :  the  agricultural  life  of  the  country  and  the 
University  life  of  the  city.  The  reader  will,  I  trust,  discover  in  the 
characterizations  of  the  work,  that  I  have  drawn  cheerfully  and 
unrestrainedly  from  this  life  at  large.  In  the  figures  of  the  academ- 
ical world  he  would  seek  in  vain  for  special  models,  since  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Struvelius,  Raschke,  and  others  are  types  to  whom  in  every 
German  University  single  personalities  will  correspond.  In  the 
character  of  Professor  Werner  my  friend  Haupt  has  been  recog- 
nized. But  one  can  find  in  it  only  so  much  of  the  manner  and 

method  of  Haupt,  as  a  poet  dares  to  take  up  of  the  being  of  a  real 

f 
man  without  interfering  with  the  freedom  of  artistic  creation,  and 

without  offending  him  through  lack  of  delicacy.  Haupt  him- 
self perceived  with  pleasure  a  certain  remote  resemblance,  and  of 


PUBLISHERS'  PREFACE.  xi 

this  connection  with  the  romance  he  gave  expression  in  his  own 
way  ;  having  on  several  occasions,  when  sending  me  the  prospectus 
of  his  Berlin  lectures  on  the  Latin  historiographer  Ammianus,  good- 
humoredly  signed  himself  "Magister  Knips,"  which  latter  personage 
plays  a  sorrowful  part  in  the  story,  and  is  only  prevented  from 
hanging  himself  by  the  thought  of  his  professional  researches  in 
the  Latin  author  mentioned. 

"Some  years  before  the  appearance  of  my  ' '  Debit  and  Credit " 
Haupt  had  unexpectedly  requested  me  to  write  a  novel.  This  ac- 
corded at  that  time  with  secret  designs  of  mine,  and  I  promised 
him.  To  The  Lost  Manuscript  he  contributed,  however,  in  quite 
another  manner.  For  as  we  were  once  sitting  alone  with  one  another 
at  Leipsic,  before  he  was  called  to  Berlin,  he  disclosed  to  me  in  the 
greatest  confidence,  that  somewhere  in  a  small  Westphalian  town 
in  the  left  of  an  old  house,  lay  the  remains  of  a  convent  library. 
It  was  very  possible  that  among  them  there  was  hidden  a  manu- 
script of  the  lost  Decades  of  Livy.  The  master  of  this  treasure, 
however,  was,  as  Haupt  had  learned,  a  surly  and  quite  inaccessible 
gentleman.  Thereupon  I  put  forward  the  proposition  to  travel  to- 
gether to  the  mysterious  house,  move  the  old  fellow's  heart,  hood- 
wink him,  and,  in  case  of  extreme  necessity,  drink  him  under  the 
table,  to  secure  the  precious  treasure.  As  Haupt  had  some  con- 
fidence in  my  powers  of  seduction  when  joined  with  a  good  glass,  he 
declared  himself  agreeable  therewith,  and  we  reveled  in  and  de- 
veloped to  the  fullest  extent  the  pleasure  we  had  in  prospect  of  en- 
larging the  tomes  of  the  Roman  historian  for  a  grateful  posterity. 
Nothing  came  of  the  affair  ;  but  the  remembrance  of  the  intended 
trip  greatly  helped  me  in  developing  the  action  of  the  novel. 

"In  Leipsic  I  had  lived  a  short  time  on  the  street  nearest  the 
Rosenthal  with  a  hatmaker,  who  manufactured  straw  hats.  Near  to 
him,  as  it  chanced,  was  another  well-known  firm,  which  adminis- 
tered to  the  same  need  of  the  male  sex  by  felt-hats.  This  accident 
suggested  the  invention  of  the  families  Hummel  andHahn,  although 
here  also  neither  the  characters  nor  the  hostilities  of  the  two  fam- 


Xll  PUBLISHERS     PREFACE. 

ilies  are  copied  from  real  life.  Only  the  incident  is  made  use 
of,  that  my  landlord  took  particular  pleasure  in  decorating  his  gar- 
den by  ever  new  inventions :  the  White  Muse,  the  Chinese  lanterns, 
and  the  summer-house  by  the  road,  I  have  taken  from  his  little 
garden.  Moreover,  two  characters  of  his  household, — the  very 
ones  which,  by  reason  of  their  mythical  character,  have  given 
offence,  are  exact  copies  of  reality  ;  namely,  the  dogs  Fighthahn 
and  Spitehahn.  These  my  landlord  had  bought  at  an  auction  some- 
where to  act  as  warders  of  his  property  ;  they  excited  through  their 
currish  behavior  the  indignation  of  the  whole  street,  until  they 
were  poisoned  by  an  exasperated  neighbor.  Fighthahn  died,  Spite- 
hahn survived  and,  after  that  time,  was  quite  as  bristly  and  misan- 
thropical as  he  is  portrayed  in  the  novel,  so  that  finally  in  con- 
sequence of  the  perpetration  of  numberless  misdeeds  his  owner 
was  obliged  to  banish  him  forever  to  rural  life." 

The  novel,  as  is  the  case  with  every  work  of  prom- 
inence and  influence,  did  not  escape  criticism,  even 
among  the  friends  of  the  author.  In  his  Autobiograph- 
ical Reminiscences,  Gustav  Freytag  refers  to  the  fact. 
He  says : 

"The  Lost  Manuscript  met  with  disapproval  from  many  inti- 
mate critics  of  mine.  The  sombre  coloring  of  the  last  volume  gave 
offence.  It  was  much  objected  that  the  religious  struggles  and  the 
spiritual  development  of  the  heroine  Use  were  not  placed  in  the 
foreground,  and  again  that  Felix  Werner  was  not  more  severely 
punished  for  the  neglect  of  his  duty  towards  his  wife.  But  the 
insanity  of  the  Sovereign  was  especially  objectionable,  and  it  was 
claimed  that  in  our  time  such  a  figure  was  no  longer  possible. 
My  friends  were  wrong  in  this  criticism.  The  Sovereign  and  his 
son  the  Hereditary  Prince  were  also  taken  as  types.  The  former 
represents  the  perverted  development  of  an  earlier  generation 
which  had  sprung  up  from  the  ruin  of  Napoleonic  times ;  the  latter 


PUBLISHERS'  PREFACE.  xiii 

the  restriction  and  narrowness  of  life  in  the  petty  principalities 
that  then  made  up  the  German  nation." 

The  American  public  will  perhaps  feel  the  strength 
of  the  criticism  to  which  Gustav  Freytag  in  the  pas- 
sage quoted  refers;  more  strongly  than  the  European 
friends  of  the  Author.  We  at  least  have  felt  it,  and 
believe  that  almost  all  the  citizens  of  the  New  World 
will  feel  it.  Nevertheless,  considering  all  in  all,  we 
confess  that  Gustav  Freytag  was  fully  justified  in  pre- 
serving these  traces  of  the  national  soul-life  of  Ger- 
many. For  they  form  an  important  link  in  the  de- 
velopment of  German  thought,  and  have  cast  dark 
shadows  as  well  as  rays  of  sunlight  over  the  aspira- 
tions of  scientific  progress  ;  now  disturbing  it  by  the 
vanity  and  egotism  of  these  petty  sovereigns,  now  pro- 
moting it  by  an  enthusiastic  protection  of  the  ideal 
treasures  of  the  nation. 

The  Lost  Manuscript  teaches  us  an  object-lesson 
respecting  the  unity  of  human  soul-life.  Under  the 
masterly  treatment  of  Gustav  Freytag's  ingenious  pen, 
we  become  aware  of  the  invisible  threads  that  inter- 
connect our  thoughts  and  the  actions  prompted  by  our 
thoughts.  We  observe  the  after-effects  of  our  ideas 
and  our  deeds.  Ideas  live  and  develop  not  alone  in 
single  individuals,  but  from  generation  to  generation. 
They  escape  death  and  partake  of  that  life  which 
knows  no  death  :  they  are  immortal. 

Gustav  Freytag,  it  is  true,  did  not  write  his  novel 
with  the  intention  of  teaching  psychology  or  preaching 


xiv  PUBLISHERS'  PREFACE. 

ethics.  But  the  impartial  description  of  life  does 
teach  ethics,  and  every  poet  is  a  psychologist  in  the 
sense  that  he  portrays  human  souls.  In  a  letter  to  the 
publisher,  Gustav  Freytag  says  : 

".  .  .  .  The  essential  thing  with  the  poet  was  not  the  teach- 
ings that  may  be  drawn  from  the  book,  but  the  joyful  creating  of 
characters  and  events  which  become  possible  and  intelligible 
through  the  persons  depicted.  The  details  he  worked  into  artistic 
unity  under  the  impulsion  of  a  poetical  idea. 

"But  I  may  now  also  express  to  you  how  great  my  pleasure  is 
at  the  agreement  that  exists  between  the  ethical  contents  of  the 
story  ( The  Lost  Manuscript)  and  the  world-conception  ( Weltan- 
schauung) which  you  labor  to  disseminate.  .  .  ."  (Translated  from 
the  German.) 

The  laws  that  govern  the  warp  and  woof  of  soul-life 
in  its  evolution  hold  good  everywhere,  also  among  us. 
We  also  have  inherited  curses  and  blessings  from  the 
past ;  our  present  is  surrounded  with  dangers,  and  our 
future  is  full  of  bright  hopes,  the  fulfilment  of  which 
mainly  depends  upon  our  own  efforts  in  realizing  our 
ideals. 


CONTENTS: 


CHAPTER  I.  PAGE 

A  DISCOVERY i 

CHAPTER  II. 

THE  HOSTILE  NEIGHBORS    .  21 


CHAPTER  III. 
A  FOOL'S  ERRAND .     .     .     .       40 

CHAPTER  IV. 
THE  OLD  HOUSE 62 

CHAPTER  V. 
AMONG  HERDS  AND  SHEAVES 84 

CHAPTER  VI. 
A  LEARNED  LADY  FROM  THE  COUNTRY no 

CHAPTER  VII. 
NEW  HOSTILITIES 130 

CHAPTER  VIII. 
TACITUS  AGAIN 151 

CHAPTER  IX. 
ILSE 170 


XVI  CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER  X.  PAGE. 

THE  WOOING 192 

CHAPTER  XI. 
SPITEHAHN 207 

CHAPTER  XII. 
THE  DEPARTURE  FROM  THE  ESTATE 226 

CHAPTER  XIII. 
THE  FIRST  GREETINGS  OF  THE  CITY 235 

CHAPTER  XIV. 
A  DAY  OF  VISITS 253 

CHAPTER  XV. 
AMONG  THE  LEARNED 270 

CHAPTER  XVI. 
THE  PROFESSORS'  BALL 291 

CHAPTER  XVII. 
THE  DECEPTION  OF  MR.  HUMMEL 318 

CHAPTER  XVIII. 
CLOUDLETS 346 

CHAPTER  XIX. 
THE  ILLNESS 367 

CHAPTER  XX. 
A  COURT  MATTER • 385 


CHAPTER  I. 
A    DISCOVERY. 


IT  is  late  evening  in  the  forest-park  of  our  town. 
Softly  the  foliage  murmurs  in  the  warm  summer  air 
and  the  chirping  of  the  crickets  in  the  distant  mead- 
ows is  heard  far  in  among  the  trees. 

Through  the  tree-  tops  a  pale  light  falls  down  upon 
the  forest-path  and  upon  the  dark  undergrowth  of  bush 
and  shrubbery.  The  moon  sprinkles  the  pathway  with 
shimmering  spots,  and  kindles  strange  lights  in  the 
mass  of  leaves  and  branches.  Here,  the  blue  streaks 
of  light  pour  down  from  the  tree-trunks  like  streams 
of  burning  spirits  ;  there,  in  the  hollow,  the  broad 
fern-branches  gleam  from  out  the  darkness  in  colors 
of  emerald  gold,  and  over  the  pathway  the  withered 
boughs  tower  like  huge  whitened  antlers.  But  be- 
tween and  beneath,  impenetrable,  Stygian  gloom. 
Round-faced  moon  in  heaven,  thine  attempts  to  light 
this  wood  of  ours  are  feeble,  sickly,  and  capricious. 
Pray  keep  thy  scanty  light  upon  the  highway  leading 
'  to  the  city  ;  throw  thy  faded  beams  not  so  crookedly 
before  us,  for  at  the  left  the  ground  slopes  precipitately 
into  morass  and  water. 

Fie,  thou  traitor  !  Plump  in  the  swamp  and  the  way- 
farer's shoe  behind  !  But  that  might  have  been  expected. 
Deceit  and  treachery  are  thy  favorite  pastimes,  thou 
wayward  freak  of  heaven.  People  wonder  now  that  men 
of  primitive  times  made  a  God  of  thee.  The  Grecian 


2  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

girl  once  called  thee  Selene,  and  wreathed  thy  cup 
with  purple  poppies,  by  thy  magic  to  lure  back  the 
faithless  lover  to  her  door.  But  that  is  now  all  over. 
We  have  science  and  phosphorus,  and  thou  hast  de- 
generated into  a  wretched  old  Juggler.  A  Juggler  ! 
And  people  show  thee  too  much  consideration,  to  treat 
thee  as  a  thing  of  life  even.  What  art  thou,  anyhow  ? 
A  ball  of  burnt  out  slag,  blistered,  airless,  colorless, 
waterless.  A  ball  ?  Why  our  scientists  know  that 
thou  art  not  even  round — caught  in  a  lie  again  !  We 
people  on  the  earth  have  pulled  thee  out  of  shape. 
In  truth  thou  art  pointed,  thou  hast  a  wretched  and 
unsymmetrical  figure.  Thou'rt  a  sort  of  big  turnip 
that  dances  about  us  in  perennial  slavery — nothing 
more. 

The  wood  opens.  Between  the  wayfarer  and  the 
city  extends  a  broad  stretch  of  lawn,  and  in  the  centre 
a  large  pond.  Welcome,  thou  dale  of  verdure  !  Well- 
kept  paths  of  gravel  lead  over  the  forest  meadow ; 
here  and  there  a  clump  of  waving  undergrowth 
is  seen,  and  beneath  it  a  garden -bench.  Here  the 
well-to-do  citizen  sits  of  an  afternoon,  and  resting 
his  hands  upon  the  bamboo-cane  that  he  carries, 
looks  proudly  over  upon  the  towers  of  his  loved  city. 

Is  the  meadow,  too,  transformed  to-day  ?  A  swell- 
ing expanse  of  water  seems  to  lie  before  the  wayfarer  ; 
it  seethes  and  bubbles  and  plays  about  his  feet,  in 
endless  masses  of  mist,  as  far  as  the  eye  can  reach. 
What  army  of  hobgoblins  do  lave  their  garments 
here  !  They  flutter  from  trees,  they  course  through 
the  air,  faint  in  outline,  now  dissolving,  now  inter- 
mingling. Higher  the  dim,  dark  figures  soar.  They 
float  above  the  wayfarer's  head.  The  gloomy  mass  of 
forest  disappears.  The  very  vault  of  heaven  itself  is 


A    DISCOVERY.  3 

lost  in  the  misty  darkness,  and  every  visible  outline 
sinks  in  the  chaos  of  paling  light  and  floating  shape- 
lessness.  The  solid  earth  still  stays  beneath  the  feet 
of  our  traveler,  and  yet  he  moves  on,  separated  from 
all  actual  earthly  forms,  amid  glimmering  bodiless 
shadows.  Here  and  there,  the  floating  illusions  again 
gather.  Slowly  the  phantoms  of  air  sweep  through 
the  veil  that  encompasses  our  wayfarer.  Now  the  bent 
figure  of  a  woman  in  prayer  presses  forward,  broken 
with  sorrow ;  now.  a  troop  in  long,  waving  robes 
appears,  as  of  Roman  Senators,  with  emperor,  halo- 
encircled,  at  their  head.  But  halo  and  head  dissolve, 
and  the  huge  shadow  glides,  headless  and  ghostly,  by. 

Mist  of  a  watery  meadow,  who  hath  so  bewitched 
thee  ?  Who  else  but  that  aged  trickster  of  heaven, 
the  moon,  the  mischief-maker  moon. 

Retreat,  illusory  shadows !  The  low-ground  is 
passed.  Lighted  windows  shine  before  the  wayfarer. 
Two  stately  houses  loom  up  at  the  city's  outskirts. 
Here  dwell  two  men — taxpayers,  active  workers. 
They  wrap  themselves,  at  night,  in  warm  blankets, 
and  not  in  thy  watery  tapestries,  Moon,  woven  of 
misty  drops  that  trickle  from  beard  and  hair.  They 
have  their  whims  and  their  virtues,  and  estimate  thy 
value,  O  Moon,  exactly  in  proportion  to  the  gas  saved 
by  thy  light. 

A  lamp,  placed  close  to  the  window,  shines  from 
one  of  the  upper  rooms  in  the  house  on  the  left  hand. 
Here  lives  Professor  Felix  Werner,  a  learned  philolo- 
gist, still  a  young  man.  who  has  already  gained  a  repu- 
tation. He  sits  at  his  study  table  and  examines  old, 
faded  manuscripts — an  attractive  looking  man  of  me- 
dium size,  with  dark,  curly  hair  falling  over  a  massive 
head;  there  is  nothing  paltry  about  him.  Clear,  honest 


4  THE    LOST   MANUSCRIPT. 

eyes  shine  from  under  the  dark  eyebrows;  the  nose  is 
slightly  arched;  the  muscles  of  the  mouth  are  strongly 
developed,  as  might  be  expected  of  the  popular  teacher 
of  young  students.  Just  now  a  soft  smile  spreads  over 
it,  and  his  cheeks  redden  either  from  his  work  or  from 
inward  emotion. 

The  Professor  suddenly  left  his  work  and  paced 
restlessly  up  and  down  the  room.  He  then  approached 
a  window  which  looked  out  on  the  neighboring  house, 
placed  two  large  books  on  the  window  sill,  laid  a 
small  one  upon  them,  and  thus  produced  a  figure 
which  resembled  a  Greek  zr,  and  which,  from  the  light 
shining  behind  became  visible  to  the  eye  in  the  house 
opposite.  After  he  had  arranged  this  signal,  he  has- 
tened back  to  the  table  and  again  bent  over  his 
book. 

The  servant  entered  gently  to  remove  the  supper, 
which  had  been  placed  on  a  side  table.  Finding  the 
food  untouched,  he  looked  with  displeasure  at  the  Pro- 
fessor, and  for  a  long  while  remained  standing  behind 
the  vacant  chair.  At  length,  assuming  a  military  at- 
titude, he  said,  "  Professor,  you  have  forgotten  your 
supper." 

"  Clear  the  table,  Gabriel,"  said  the  Professor. 

Gabriel  showed  no  disposition  to  move.  "  Pro- 
fessor, you  should  at  least  eat  a  bit  of  cold  meat. 
Nothing  can  come  of  nothing,"  he  added,  kindly. 

"It  is  not  right  that  you  should  come  in  and  dis- 
turb me." 

Gabriel  took  the  plate  and  carried  it  to  his  master. 
"Pray,  Professor,  take  at  least  a  few  mouthfuls." 

"Give  it  to  me  then,"  said  he,  and  began  to  eat. 

Gabriel  made  use  of  the  time  during  which  his 
master  unavoidably  paused  in  his  intellectual  occupa- 


A    DISCOVERY.  5 

tion,  to  offer  a  respectful  admonition.  "My  late  Cap- 
tain thought  much  of  a  good  supper." 

"But  now  you  have  changed  into  the  civil  service," 
answered  the  Professor,  laughing. 

"  It  is  not  right,"  continued  Gabriel,  pertinaciously, 
"that  I  should  eat  the  roast  that  I  bring  for  you." 

"I  hope  you  are  now  satisfied,"  answered  the  Pro- 
fessor, pushing  the  plate  back  to  him. 

Gabriel  shrugged  his  shoulders.  "  You  have  at 
least  done  your  best.  The  Doctor  was  not  at  home." 

"So  it  appears.  See  to  it  that  the  front-door  re- 
mains open." 

Gabriel  turned  about  and  went  away  with  the  plate. 

The  scholar  was  again  alone.  The  golden  light  of 
the  lamp  fell  on  his  countenance  and  on  the  books 
which  lay  around  him;  the  white  pages  rustled  under 
his  hand;  and  his  features  worked  with  strong  excite- 
ment. 

There  was  a  knock  at  the  door;  the  expected  visitor 
entered. 

"Good  evening,  Fritz,"  said  the  Professor  to  his 
visitor;  "sit  in  my  chair,  and  look  here." 

The  guest,  a  man  of  slender  form,  with  delicate 
features,  and  wearing  spectacles,  seated  himself  at  the 
bidding  of  his  friend,  and  seized  a  little  book  which  lay 
in  the  middle  of  a  number  of  open  volumes  of  every  age 
and  size.  With  the  eye  of  a  connoisseur  he  examined 
the  first  cover — discolored  parchment,  upon  which  were 
written  old  church  hymns  with  the  accompanying  music. 
He  cast  a  searching  glance  on  the  inside  of  the  binding, 
and  inspected  the  strips  of  parchment  by  which  the 
poorly-preserved  back  of  the  book  was  joined  to  the 
cover.  He  then  examined  the  first  page  of  the  con- 
tents, on  which,  in  faded  characters,  was  written,  "  The 


6  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

Life  of  the  Holy  Hildegard."  "The  handwriting  is 
that  of  a  writer  of  the  fifteenth  century,"  he  ex- 
claimed, and  looked  inquiringly  at  his  friend. 

"  It  is  not  on  that  account  that  I  show  you  the  old 
book.  Look  further.  The  Life  is  followed  by  prayers, 
a  number  of  recipes  and  household  regulations,  written 
in  various  hands,  even  before  the  time  of  Luther.  I 
had  bought  this  manuscript  for  you,  thinking  you 
might  perhaps  find  material  for  your  legends  and 
popular  superstitions.  But  on  looking  through  it,  I 
met  with  the  following  passage  on  one  of  the  last 
pages,  and  I  cannot  yet  part  with  the  volume.  It 
seems  that  the  book  has  been  used  in  a  monastery 
by  many  generations  of  monks  to  note  down  me- 
moranda, for  on  this  page  there  is  a  catalogue  of  all 
the  church  treasures  of  the  Monastery  of  Rossau.  It 
was  a  poverty-stricken  cloister;  the  inventory  is  either 
small  or  incomplete.  It  was  made  by  an  ignorant 
monk,  and,  as  the  writing  testifies,  about  the  year 
1500.  See,  here  are  entered  church -utensils  and  a  few 
ecclesiastical  vestments;  and  further  on  some  theo- 
logical manuscripts  of  the  monastery,  of  no  impor- 
tance to  us,  but  amongst  them  the  following  title: 
'  Das  alt  ungehiir  puoch  von  ussfahrt  des  swiger  s.'  " 

The  Doctor  examined  the  words  with  curiosity. 
"That  sounds  like  the  title  of  a  tale  of  chivalry.  And 
what  do  the  words  themselves  mean  !  'The  old,  im- 
mense book  of  the  exit  or  departure  of  the  swiger.' 
Does  swiger  here  mean  son-in-law  or  a  tacit  man?" 

"Let  us  try  to  solve  the  riddle,"  continued  the  Pro- 
fessor, with  sparkling  eyes,  pointing  with  his  finger  to 
the  same  page.  "A  later  hand  has  added  in  Latin, 
'This  book  is  Latin,  almost  illegible;  it  begins  with 
the  words  lacrimas  et  signa,  and  ends  with  the  words — 


A    DISCOVERY.  7 

• 

here  concludes  the  history — actorum — thirtieth  book.' 
Now  guess." 

V^TThe  Doctor  looked  at  the  excited  features  of  his 
friend.  "  Do  not  keep  me  in  suspense.  The  first 
words  sound  very  promising,  but  they  are  not  a  title; 
some  pages  in  the  beginning  may  be  deficient." 

"Just  so,"  answered  the  Professor,  with  satisfac- 
tion. "  We  may  assume  that  one  or  two  pages  are 
missing.  In  the  fifth  chapter  of  the  Annals  of  Tacitus 
there  are  the  words  lacrimas  et  signa." 

The  Doctor  sprang  up,  and  a  flush  of  joy  over- 
spread his  face. 

"  Sit  down,"  continued  the  Professor,  forcing  his 
friend  back  into  the  chair.  "  The  old  title  of  the  An- 
nals of  Tacitus,  when  translated,  appears  literally 
'  Tacitus,  beginning  with  the  death  of  the  divine 
Augustus.'  Well,  an  ignorant  monk  deciphered  per- 
haps the  first  Latin  words  of  the  title,  'Taciti  ab  ex- 
cessu,'  and  endeavored  to  translate  it  into  German; 
he  was  pleased  to  know  that  tacitus  meant  schweigsam 
(silent),  but  had  never  heard  of  the  Roman  historian, 
and  rendered  it  in  these  words,  literally,  as  '  From  the 
exit  of  the  tacit  man.'  " 

"Excellent!"  exclaimed  the  Doctor.  "And  the 
monk,  delighted  with  the  successful  translation,  wrote 
the  title  on  the  manuscript  ?  Glorious!  the  manuscript 
was  a  Tacitus." 

"Hear  further,"  proceeded  the  Professor.  "  In  the 
third  and  fourth  century  A.  D.,  both  the  great  works 
of  Tacitus,  the  'Annals'  and  'History,'  were  united  in 
a  collection  under  the  title,  '  Thirty  Books  of  History.' 
For  this  we  have  other  ancient  testimony.  Look  here! " 

The  Professor  found  well-known  passages,  and 
placed  them  before  his  friend.  "  And,  again,  at  the 


8  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

• 

end  of  the  manuscript  record  there  were  these  words: 
'  Here  ends  the  Thirtieth  Book  of  the  History.'  There 
remains,  therefore,  no  doubt  that  this  manuscript  was 
a  Tacitus.  And  looking  at  the  thing  as  a  whole,  the 
following  appears  to  have  been  the  case.  There  was, 
at  the  time  of  the  Reformation,  a  manuscript  of  Tacitus 
in  the  Monastery  of  Rossau,  the  beginning  of  which 
was  missing.  It  was  old  and  injured  by  time,  and 
almost  illegible  to  the  eyes  of  the  monks." 

"  There  must  have  been  something  peculiar  at- 
taching to  the  book,"  interrupted  the  Doctor,  "for  the 
monk  designates  it  by  the  expression,  '  UngeheuerJ 
which  conveys  the  meaning  of  strange,  monstrous." 

"It  is  true,"  agreed  the  Professor.  "  \Ve  may 
assume  that  some  monastic  tradition  which  has  at- 
tached to  the  book,  or  an  old  prohibition  to  read  it, 
or,  more  probably,  the  unusual  aspect  of  its  cover,  or 
its  size,  has  given  rise  to  this  expression.  The  ma- 
nuscript contains  both  the  historical  works  of  Tacitus, 
the  books  of  which  were  numbered  consecutively.  And 
we,"  he  added,  in  his  excitement  throwing  the  book 
which  he  held  in  his  hand  on  the  table,  "  we  no  longer 
possess  this  manuscript.  Neither  of  the  historical  works 
of  the  great  Roman  have  been  preserved  in  its  en- 
tirety ;  for  the  sum  of  all  the  gaps  would  fully  equal 
one-half  of  what  has  come  down  to  us." 

The  Professor's  friend  paced  the  room  hurriedly. 
"  This  is  one  of  the  discoveries  that  quicken  the  blood 
in  one's  veins.  Gone  and  lost  forever!  It  is  ex- 
asperating to  think  how  nearly  such  a  precious  treasure 
of  antiquity  was  preserved  to  us.  It  has  escaped  fire, 
devastation,  and  the  perils  of  cruel  war;  it  was  still  in 
existence  when  the  dawn  of  a  new  civilization  burst 
upon  us,  happily  concealed  and  unheeded,  in  the  Ger- 


A    DISCOVERY.  9 

man  monastery,  not  many  miles  from  the  great  high 
road  along  which  the  humanists  wandered,  with  visions 
of  Roman  glory  in  their  minds,  seeking  after  every 
relic  of  the  Roman  times.  Universities  flourished  in 
the  immediate  vicinitv  ;  and  how  easily  could  one  of 
the  friars  of  Rossau  have  informed  the  students  of  their 
treasure.  It  seems  incomprehensible  that  not  one  of 
the  many  scholars  of  the  country  should  have  obtained 
information  concerning  the  book,  and  pointed  out  to 
the  monks  the  value  of  such  a  memorial.  But,  in- 
stead of  this,  it  is  possible  that  some  contemporary  of 
Erasmus  and  Melanchthon,  some  poor  monk,  sold  the 
manuscript  to  a  book-binder,  and  strips  of  it'may  still 
adhere  to  some  old  book-cover.  But,  even  in  this 
case,  the  discovery  is  important.  Evidently  this  little 
book  has  occasioned  you  much  painful  pleasure." 

The  Professor  clasped  the  hand  of  his  friend,  and 
each  looked  into  the  honest  countenance  of  the  other. 
"Let  us  assume,"  concluded  the  Doctor,  sorrowfully, 
"  that  the  old  hereditary  enemy  of  preserved  treasures, 
fire,  had  consumed  the  manuscript — is  it  not  childish 
that  we  should  feel  the  loss  as  if  it  had  occurred  to- 
day ?  " 

"Who  tells  us  that  the  manuscript  is  irretrievably 
lost?"  rejoined  the  Professor,  with  suppressed  emo- 
tion. "  Once  more  consult  the  book  ;  it  can  tell  us  also 
of  the  fate  of  the  manuscript." 

The  Doctor  rushed  to  the  table,  and  seized  the  little 
book  of  the  Holy  Hildegard. 

"  Here,  after  the  catalogue,"  said  the  Professor, 
showing  him  the  last  page  of  the  book,  "  there  is  still 
more." 

The  Doctor  fixed  his  eyes  on  the  page.  Latin 
characters  without  meaning  or  break  were  written  in 


10  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

seven  successive  lines ;  under  them  was  a  name — F. 
Tobias  Bachhuber. 

"  Compare  these  letters  with  the  Latin  annotation 
under  the  title  of  the  mysterious  manuscript.  It  is  un- 
doubtedly the  same  hand,  firm  characters  of  the  seven- 
teenth century;  compare  the  's,'  *r,'  and  'f.'  " 

"  It  is  the  same  hand !"  exclaimed  the  Doctor  with 
satisfaction. 

"  These  unmeaning  letters  are  a  cipher,  such  as 
was  used  in  the  seventeenth  century.  In  that  case  it 
is  easily  solved ;  each  letter  is  exchanged  with  the  one 
that  follows.  On  this  bit  of  paper  I  have  put  together 
the  Latin  words.  The  translation  is,  '  On  the  ap- 
proach of  the  ferocious  Swedes,  in  order  to  withdraw 
the  treasures  of  our  monastery  from  the  search  of 
these  roaring  devils,  I  have  deposited  them  all  in  a 
dry,  hollow  place  in  the  Manor  of  Bielstein.'  The  day 
Quasimodogeniti  37 — that  is  on  the  igth  April,  1637. 
What  do  you  say  now,  Fritz?  It  appears  from  this 
that  in  the  time  of  the  Thirty  Years'  War  the  manu- 
script had  not  been  burned,  for  Frater  Tobias  Bach- 
huber— blest  be  his  memory  ! — had  at  that  time  vouch- 
safed to  look  upon  it  with  some  consideration,  and  as 
in  the  record  he  had  favored  it  with  an  especial  re- 
mark, he  probably  did  not  leave  it  behind  in  his  flight. 
The  mysterious  manuscript  was  thus  in  the  Monastery 
of  Rossau  till  1637,  and  the  friar,  in  the  April  of  that 
year,  concealed  it  and  other  goods  from  the  Swedes 
in  a  hollow  and  dry  spot  in  Manor  Bielstein." 

"  Now  the  matter  becomes  serious !"  cried  the  Doc- 
tor. 

"  Yes,  it  is  serious,  my  friend  ;  it  is  not  impossible 
that  the  manuscript  may  still  lie  concealed  some- 
where." 


A    DISCOVERY.  II 

"And  Manor  Bielstein?" 

"  Lies  near  the  little  town  of  Rossau.  The  monas- 
tery was  in  needy  circumstances,  and  under  ecclesias- 
tical protection  till  the  Thirty  Years'  War.  In  1637 
the  town  and  monastery  were  desolated  by  the  Swedes; 
the  last  monks  disappeared  and  the  monastery  was 
never  again  re-established.  That  is  all  I  have  -been 
able  to  learn  up  to  this  time ;  for  anything  further  I 
request  your  help." 

"  The  next  question  will  be  whether  the  manor- 
house  outlasted  the  war,"  answered  the  Doctor,  "  and 
what  has  become  of  it  now.  It  will  be  more  difficult 
to  ascertain  where  Brother  Tobias  Bachhuber  ended 
his  days,  and  most  difficult  of  all  to  discover  through 
what  hands  his  little  book  has  reached  us." 

<:  I  obtained  the  book  from  a  second  hand  dealer 
here;  it  was  a  new  acquisition,  and  not  yet  entered  in 
his  catalogue.  To-morrow  I  will  obtain  all  further 
information  that  the  book- seller  may  be  able  to  give. 
It  will,  perhaps,  be  worth  while  to  investigate  further," 
he  continued,  more  coolly,  endeavoring  to  restrain  his 
intense  excitement  by  a  little  rational  reflection.  "  More 
than  two  centuries  have  elapsed  since  that  cipher  was 
written  by  the  friar;  during  that  period  destructive 
agencies  were  not  less  active  than  before.  Just  think 
of  the  war  and  devastation  of  the  years  when  the 
cloister  was  destroyed.  And  so  we  are  no  better  off 
than  if  the  manuscript  had  been  lost  several  centuries 
previously." 

"  And  yet  the  probability  that  the  manuscript  is 
preserved  to  the  present  day  increases  with  every 
century,"  interposed  the  Doctor;  "for  the  number  of 
men  who  would  value  such  a  discovery  has  increased 


12  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

so  much  since   that  war,  that  destruction  from  rude 
ignorance  has  become  almost  inconceivable." 

"We  must  not  trust  too  much  to  the  knowledge  of 
the  present  day,"  said  the  Professor;  "but  if  it  were 
so,"  he  continued,  his  eyes  flashing,  "  if  the  imperial 
history  of  the  first  century,  as  written  by  Tacitus,  were 
restored  by  a  propitious  fate,  it  would  be  a  gift  so 
great  that  the  thought  of  the  possibility  of  it  might 
well,  like  Roman  wine,  intoxicate  an  honest  man." 

"  Invaluable,"  assented  the  Doctor,  "  for  our  knowl- 
edge of  the  language,  and  for  a  hundred  particulars  of 
Roman  history." 

"  And  for  the  early  history  of  Germany !  "  exclaimed 
the  Professor. 

Both  traversed  the  room  with  rapid  steps,  shook 
hands,  and  looked  at  each  other  joyfully. 

"And  if  a  fortunate  accident  should  put  us  on  the 
track  of  this  manuscript,"  began  Fritz,  "if  through  you 
it  should  be  restored  to  the  light  of  day,  you,  my  friend, 
you  are  best  fitted  to  edit  it.  The  thought  that  you 
would  experience  such  a  pleasure,  and  that  a  work  of 
such  renown  would  fall  to  your  lot,  makes  me  happier 
than  I  can  say." 

"If  we  can  find  the  manuscript,"  answered  the 
Professor,  "we  must  edit  it  together." 

"Together?"  exclaimed  Fritz,  with  surprise. 
"Yes,  together,"  said  the  Professor,  with  decision  ; 
"it  would  make  your  ability  widely  known." 

Fritz  drew  back.  "  How  can  you  think  that  I  would 
be  so  presumptuous?" 

"  Do  not  contradict  me,"  exclaimed  the  Professor, 
"you  are  perfectly  qualified  for  it." 

"That  I  am  not,"  answered  Fritz,  firmly  ;  "and  I 
am  too  proud  to  undertake  anything  for  which  I  should 


A    DISCOVERY.  13 

have    to   thank    your    kindness    more  than    my    own 
powers." 

"That  is  undue  modesty,"  again  exclaimed  the 
Professor. 

"I  shall  never  do  it,"  answered  Fritz.  "  I  could 
not  for  one  moment  think  of  adorning  myself  before 
the  public  with  borrowed  plumage." 

"I  know  better  than  you,"  said  the  Professor, 
indignantly,  "what  you  are  able  to  do,  and  what  is  to 
your  advantage." 

"  At  all  events,  I  would  never  agree  that  you 
should  have  the  lion's  share  of  the  labor  and  secretly 
be  deprived  of  the  reward.  Not  my  modesty,  but  my 
self-respect  forbids  this.  And  this  feeling  you  ought 
to  respect,"  concluded  Fritz,  with  great  energy. 

"Now,"  returned  the  Professor,  restraining  his 
excited  feelings,  "we  are  behaving  like  the  man  who 
bought  a  house  and  field  with  the  money  procured  by 
the  sale  of  a  calf  which  was  not  yet  born.  Be  calm, 
Fritz  ;  neither  I  nor  you  shall  edit  the  manuscript." 

"And  we  shall  never  know  how  the  Roman  Em- 
peror treated  the  ill  fated  Thusnelda  and  Thumelicus  !  " 
said  Fritz,  sympathizingly  to  his  friend. 

"But  it  is  not  the  absence  of  such  particulars,"  said 
the  Professor,  "that  makes  the  loss  of  the  manuscript 
so  greatly  felt,  for  the  main  facts  may  be  obtained 
from  other  sources.  The  most  important  point  will 
always  be,  that  Tacitus  was  the  first,  and  in  many  re 
spects  is  the  only,  historian  who  has  portrayed  the 
most  striking  and  gloomy  phases  of  human  nature. 
His  works  that  are  extant  are  two  historical  tragedies, 
scenes  in  the  Julian  and  Flavian  imperial  houses — 
fearful  pictures  of  the  enormous  change  which,  in  the 
course  of  a  century,  took  place  in  the  greatest  city  of 


14  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

antiquity,  in  the  character  of  its  emperors  and  the 
souls  of  their  subjects — the  history  of  tyrannical  rule, 
which  exterminated  a  noble  race,  destroyed  a  high  and 
rich  civilization,  and  degraded,  with  few  exceptions, 
even  the  rulers  themselves.  We  have,  even  up  to  the 
present  day,  scarcely  another  work  whose  author  looks 
so  searchingly  into  the  souls  of  a  whole  succession  of 
princes,  and  which  describes  so  acutely  and  accu- 
rately the  ruin  which  was  wrought  in  different  natures 
by  the  fiendish  and  distempered  minds  of  rulers." 

"It  always  makes  me  angry,"  said  the  Doctor, 
"when  I  hear  him  reproached  as  having  for  the  most 
part  written  only  imperial  and  court  history.  Who 
can  expect  grapes  from  a  cypress,  and  satisfactory  en- 
joyment in  the  grand  public  life  of  a  man  who,  during 
a  great  portion  of  his  manhood,  daily  saw  before  his 
eyes  the  dagger  and  poison-cup  of  a  mad  despot?" 

"Yes,"  agreed  the  Professor,  "Tacitus  belonged 
to  the  aristocracy — a  body  unfit  to  rule,  and  unwilling 
to  obey.  In  the  consciousness  of  their  privileged 
position  they  were  the  indispensable  servants,  while 
still  the  enemies  and  the  rivals,  of  their  sovereigns.  In 
them  the  virtues  and  the  vices  of  a  mighty  epoch  grew 
to  monstrous  manifestations.  Who  but  one  of  their 
own  circle  should  write  the  history  of  Roman  imperial- 
ism ?  The  blackest  crimes  were  concealed  behind  the 
stone  walls  of  palaces  ;  rumor,  the  low  murmur  of  the 
antechamber,  the  lurking  look  of  concealed  hatred, 
were  often  the  only  sources  the  historian  could  com- 
mand." 

"All  that  remains  for  us  to  do  is  discreetly  to  accept 
the  judgment  of  the  man  who  has  handed  down  to  us 
information  concerning  this  strange  condition  of  things. 
Moreover,  whoever  studies  the  fragments  of  Tacitus 


A    DISCOVERY.  15 

that  have  been  preserved,  impartially  and  intelligently, 
will  honor  and  admire  his  profound  insight  into  the 
inmost  depths  of  Roman  character.  It  is  an  expe- 
rienced statesman,  of  a  powerful  and  truthful  mind,  re- 
lating the  secret  history  of  his  time  so  clearly  that  we 
understand  the  men  and  all  their  doings  as  if  we  our- 
selves had  the  opportunity  of  reading  their  hearts. 
He  who  can  do  this  for  later  centuries  is  not  only  a 
great  historian  but  a  great  man.  And  for  such  I  always 
felt  a  deep,  heartfelt  reverence,  and  I  consider  it  the 
duty  of  a  true  critic  to  clear  such  a  character  from  the 
attacks  of  petty  minds." 

"Hardly  one  of  his  contemporaries,"  said  the  Doc- 
tor, "has  felt  the  poverty  of  his  epoch's  civilization 
as  deeply  as  himself." 

"Yes,"  rejoined  the  Professor,  "he  was  a  genuine 
man,  so  far  as  was  possible  in  his  time ;  and  that  is, 
after  all,  the  main  point.  For  what  we  must  demand, 
is  not  the  amount  of  knowledge  for  which  we  have  to 
thank  a  great  man,  but  his  own  personality,  which, 
through  what  he  has  produced  for  us,  becomes  a  por- 
tion of  ourselves.  Thus  the  spirit  of  Aristotle  is  some- 
thing different  to  us  than  the  substance  of  his  teach- 
ing. For  us  Sophocles  signifies  much  more  than  seven 
tragedies.  His  manner  of  thinking  and  feeling,  his 
perception  of  the  beautiful  and  the  good,  ought  to  be- 
come part  of  our  life.  Only  in  this  way  does  the  study 
of  the  past  healthily  influence  our  actions  and  our  as- 
pirations. In  this  sense  the  sad  and  sorrowful  soul  of 
Tacitus  is  far  more  to  me  than  his  delineation  of  the 
Emperor's  madness.  And  you  see,  Fritz,  it  is  on  this 
account  that  your  Sanskrit  and  Hindu  languages  are 
not  satisfactory  to  me — the  men  are  wanting  in  them." 

"It  is,  at  least,  difficult  for  us  to  recognize  them," 


l6  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

answered  his  friend.  "But  one  who,  like  you,  ex- 
plains Homer's  epics  to  students,  should  not  under- 
value the  charm  that  lies  in  sounding  the  mysterious 
depths  of  human  activity,  when  a  youthful  nation  con- 
ceals from  our  view  the  work  of  the  individual  man, 
and  when  the  people  itself  comes  before  us  in  poetry, 
traditions,  and  law,  assuming  the  shape  of  a  living  in- 
dividuality." 

"He  who  only  engages  in  such  researches, "  an- 
swered the  Professor,  eagerly,  "soon  becomes  fantas- 
tic and  visionary.  The  study  of  such  ancient  times 
acts  like  opium,  and  he  who  lingers  all  his  life  in  such 
studies  will  hardly  escape  vagaries." 

Fritz  rose.  "That  is  our  old  quarrel.  I  know  you 
do  not  wish  to  speak  harshly  to  me,  but  I  feel  that  you 
intend  this  for  me." 

"And  am  I  wrong?"  continued  the  Professor.  "I 
undoubtedly  have  a  respect  for  every  intellectual  work, 
but  I  desire  for  my  friend  that  which  will  be  most  bene- 
ficial to  him.  Your  investigations  into  Hindu  and 
German  mythology  entice  you  from  one  problem  to 
another  ;  youthful  energies  should  not  linger  in  the 
endless  domain  of  indistinct  contemplations  and  unreal 
shadows.  Come  to  a  decision  for  other  reasons  also. 
It  does  not  behoove  you  to  be  merely  a  private  stu- 
dent ;  such  a  life  is  too  easy  for  you ;  you  need  the  out- 
ward pressure  of  definite  duties.  You  have  many  of 
the  qualities  requisite  for  a  professor.  Do  not  remain 
in  your  parents'  house ;  you  must  become  a  university 
lecturer." 

A  heightened  color  spread  slowly  over  the  face  of 
his  friend.  "Enough, "he  exclaimed,  vexed;  "if  I 
have  thought  too  little  of  my  future,  you  should  not 
reproach  me  for  it.  It  has  perhaps  been  too  great  a 


A    DISCOVERY.  17 

pleasure  to  me  to  be  your  companion  and  the  confi- 
dant of  your  successful  labors.  I  also,  from  my  inter- 
course with  you,  have  enjoyed  that  pleasure  which  an 
intellectual  man  bestows  upon  all  who  participate  in 
his  creations.  Good  night." 

The  Professor  approached  him,  and  seizing  both 
his  hands,  exclaimed,  "Stay!  Are  you  angry  with  me?" 

"  No,"  answered  Fritz,  "  but  I  am  going  ; "  and  he 
closed  the  door  gently. 

The  Professor  paced  up  and  down  excitedly,  re- 
proaching himself  for  his  vehemence.  At  length  he 
violently  threw  the  books  which  had  served  as  a  sig- 
nal back  on  the  shelf,  and  again  seated  himself  at  his 
desk. 

Gabriel  lighted  the  Doctor  down  the  stairs,  opened 
the  door,  and  shook  his  head  when  he  heard  his  "  Good 
night "  curtly  answered.  He  extinguished  the  light 
and  listened  at  his  master's  door.  When  he  heard  the 
Professor's  steps,  he  determined  to  refresh  himself  by 
the  mild  evening  air,  and  descended  into  the  little 
garden.  There  he  met  Mr.  Hummel,  who  was  walking 
under  the  Professor's  windows.  Mr.  Hummel  was  a 
broad-shouldered  gentleman,  with  a  large  head  and  a 
determined  face,  portly  and  well-preserved,  of  the 
honest  old  Saxon  type.  He  smoked  a  long  pipe,  with 
a  huge  mouth-piece,  which  was  divided  into  a  number 
of  capacious  compartments. 

"A  fine  evening,  Gabriel,"  began  Mr.  Hummel, 
"  a  good  season  ;  what  a  harvest  we  shall  have  !  "  He 
nudged  the  servant.  "Has  anything  happened  up 
there  ?  The  window  is  open,"  he  concluded  signific- 
antly, and  disapprovingly  shook  his  head. 

"He  has  closed  the  window  again,"  answered 
Gabriel,  evasively.  "  The  bats  and  the  moths  become 


1 8  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

troublesome,  and  when  he  argues  with  the  Doctor  they 
both  grow  so  loud  that  people  in  the  street  stop  and 
listen." 

"Circumspection  is  always  wise,"  said  Mr.  Hum- 
mel; "but  what  was  the  matter  ?  The  Doctor  is  the 
son  of  the  man  over  yonder,  and  you  know  my  opinion 
of  them,  Gabriel — I  do  not  trust  them.  I  do  not  wish 
to  injure  any  one,  but  I  have  my  views  concerning 
them." 

"What  it  was  about,"  answered  Gabriel,  "I  did 
not  hear  ;  but  I  can  tell  you  this  much,  there  was 
much  talk  about  the  ancient  Romans.  Look  you,  Mr. 
Hummel,  if  the  old  Romans  were  among  us  now, 
much  would  be  different.  They  were  dare-devils ;  they 
knew  how  to  forage  ;  they  knew  how  to  carry  on  war ; 
they  conquered  everywhere." 

"You  speak  like  an  incendiary,"  said  Mr.  Hummel, 
with  displeasure. 

"Yes,  that  is  the  way  they  did,"  answered  Gabriel, 
complacently.  "  They  were  a  selfish  people,  and  knew 
how  to  look  out  for  their  own  interests.  But  what  is 
most  wonderful  is  the  number  of  books  these  Romans 
wrote  for  all  that,  large  and  small — many  also  in  folio. 
When  I  dust  the  library  there  is  no  end  to  the  Romans 
of  all  sizes,  and  some  are  books  thicker  than  the  Bible, 
only  they  are  all  difficult  to  read ;  but  one  who  knows 
the  language  may  learn  much." 

"The  Romans  are  an  extinct  people,"  replied  Mr. 
Hummel.  "When  they  disappeared,  the  Germans 
came.  The  Romans  could  never  exist  with  us.  The 
only  thing  that  can  help  us  is  the  Hanseatic  league. 
That  is  the  thing  to  look  to.  Powerful  at  sea,  Ga- 
briel," he  exclaimed,  taking  hold  of  his  coat  by  a 
button,  "the  cities  must  form  alliances,  invest  money, 


A    DISCOVERY.  IQ 

build  ships,  and  hoist  flags ;  our  trade   and  credit  are 
established,  and  men  are  not  wanting." 

"And  would  you  venture  on  the  mighty  ocean  in 
that  vessel?"  asked  Gabriel,  pointing  to  a  little  row- 
boat  which  lay  in  the  rear  of  the  garden  tilted  over  on 
two  planks.  "  Shall  I  go  to  sea  with  the  Professor  ?  " 

"That  is  not  the  question,"  answered  Mr.  Hum- 
mel ;  "let  the  young  people  go  first — they  are  useless. 
Many  could  do  better  than  stay  at  home  with  their 
parents.  Why  should  not  the  doctor  up  there  serve 
his  country  in  the  capacity  of  a  sailor  ?  " 

"What  do  you  mean,  Mr.  Hummel?"  cried 
Gabriel,  startled;  "the  young  gentleman  is  near- 
sighted." 

"That's  nothing,"  muttered  Mr.  Hummel,  "for 
they  have  telescopes  at  sea,  and  for  aught  I  care  he 
may  become  a  captain.  I  am  not  the  man  to  wish 
evil  to  my  neighbor." 

"He  is  a  man  of  learning,"  replied  Gabriel,  "and 
this  class  is  also  necessary.  I  can  assure  you,  Mr. 
Hummel,  I  have  meditated  much  upon  the  character 
of  the  learned.  I  know  my  Professor  thoroughly,  and 
something  of  the  Doctor,  and  I  must  say  there  is  some- 
thing in  it — there  is  much  in  it.  Sometimes  I  am  not 
so  sure  of  it.  When  the  tailor  brings  the  Professor 
home  a  new  coat  he  does  not  remark  what  everybody 
else  sees,  whether  the  coat  fits  him  or  wrinkles.  If  he 
takes  it  into  his  head  to  buy  a  load  of  wood  which  has 
very  likely  been  stolen,  from  a  peasant,  he  pays  more 
in.  my  absence  than  any  one  else  would.  And  when 
he  grows  angry  and  excited  about  matters  that  you 
and  I  would  discuss  very  calmly,  I  must  say  I  have  my 
doubts.  But  when  I  see  how  he  acts  at  other  times — 
how  kind  and  merciful  he  is,  even  to  the  flies  that 


20  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

buzz  about  his  nose,  taking  them  out  of  his  coffee-cup 
with  a  spoon  and  setting  them  on  the  window-sill — 
how  he  wishes  well  to  all  the  world  and  begrudges 
himself  everything — how  he  sits  reading  and  writing 
till  late  at  night — when  I  see  all  this,  I  must  say  his 
life  affects  me  powerfully.  And  I  tell  you  I  will  not 
allow  any  one  to  underrate  our  men  of  learning.  They 
are  different  from  us  ;  they  do  not  understand  what  we 
do,  nor  do  we  understand  what  they  do." 

"Yet  we  also  have  our  culture,"  replied  Mr.  Hum- 
mel. "Gabriel,  you  have  spoken  like  an  honorable 
man,  but  I  will  confide  this  to  you — that  a  man  may 
have  great  knowledge,  and  yet  be  a  very  hard-hearted 
individual,  who  loans  his  money  on  usurious  interest 
and  deprives  his  friends  of  the  honor  due  them.  There- 
fore I  think  the  main  point  is  to  have  order  and  bound- 
aries, and  to  leave  something  to  one's  descendants. 
Regularity  here,"  he  pointed  .to  his  breast,  "and  a 
boundary  there,"  pointing  to  his  fence,  "that  one  may 
be  sure  as  to  what  belongs  to  one's  self  and  what  to 
another,  and  a  secure  property  for  one's  children  on 
which  they  may  settle  themselves.  That  is  what  I  un- 
derstand as  the  life  of  man." 

The  householder  locked  the  gate  of  the  fence  and 
the  door  of  the  house.  Gabriel  also  sought  his  bed, 
but  the  lamp  in  the  Professor's  study  burned  late  into 
the  night,  and  its  rays  intermingled  on  the  window- 
sill  with  the  pale  moonshine.  At  length  the  Scholar's 
light  was  extinguished,  and  the  room  left  empty ;  out- 
side, small  clouds  coursed  over  the  disk  of  the  moon, 
and  flickering  lights  reigned  paramount  in  the  room, 
over  the  writing-table,  over  the  works  of  the  old 
Romans,  and  over  the  little  book  of  the  defunct  Brother 
Tobias. 


CHAPTER  II. 
THE    HOSTILE    NEIGHBORS. 

WE  are  led  to  believe  that  in  future  times  there 
will  be  nothing  but  love  and  happiness  ;  and  men  will 
go  about  with  palm  branches  in  their  hands  to  chase 
away  the  last  of  those  birds  of  night,  hatred  and  mal- 
ice. In  such  a  chase  we  would  probably  find  the  last 
nest  of  these  monsters  hanging  between  the  walls  of 
two  neighboring  houses.  For  they  have  nestled  be- 
tween neighbor  and  neighbor  ever  since  the  rain 
trickled  from  the  roof  of  one  house  into  the  court  of 
the  other ;  ever  since  the  rays  of  the  sun  were  kept 
away  from  one  house  by  the  wall  of  the  other ;  ever 
since  children  thrust  their  hands  through  the  hedge 
to  steal  berries;  .ever  since  the  master  of  the  house 
has  been  inclined  to  consider  himself  better  than  his 
fellow- men.  There  are  in  our  days  few  houses  in  the 
country  between  which  so  much  ill-will  and  hostile 
criticism  exist  as  between  the  two  houses  near  the 
great  city  park. 

Many  will  remember  the  time  when  the  houses  of 
the  town  did  not  extend  to  the  wooded  valley.  Then 
there  were  only  a  few  small  houses  along  the  lanes  ; 
behind  lay  a  waste  place  where  Mrs.  Knips,  the  wash- 
woman, dried  the  shirts,  and  her  two  naughty  boys 
threw  the  wooden  clothes'-pins  at  each  other.  There 
Mr.  Hummel  had  bought  a  dry  spot,  quite  at  the  end 
of  the  street,  and  had  built  his  pretty  house  of  two 
stories,  with  stone  steps  and  iron  railing,  and  behind, 
a  simple  workshop  for  his  trade ;  for  he  was  a  hatter, 
and  carried  on  the  business  very  extensively.  When 
he  went  out  of  his  house  and  surveyed  the  reliefs  on 


22  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

the  roof  and  the  plaster  arabesques  under  the  windows, 
he  congratulated  himself  on  being  surrounded  by  light 
and  air  and  free  nature,  and  felt  that  he  was  the  fore- 
most pillar  of  civilization  in  the  primeval  forest. 

Then  he  experienced  what  often  happens  to  dis- 
turb the  peace  of  pioneers  of  the  wilderness — his  ex- 
ample was  imitated.  On  a  dark  morning  in  March,  a 
wagon,  loaded  with  old  planks,  came  to  the  drying- 
ground  which  was  opposite  his  house.  A  fence  was 
soon  built,  and  laborers  with  shovels  and  wheelbar- 
rows began  to  dig  up  the  ground.  This  was  a  hard 
blow  for  Mr.  Hummel.  But  his  suffering  became 
greater  when,  walking  angrily  across  the  street  and  in- 
quiring the  name  of  the  man  who  was  causing  such  in- 
jury to  the  light  and  reputation  of  his  house,  he  learned 
that  his  future  neighbor  was  to  be  a  manufacturer  by 
the  name  of  Hahn.  That  it  should -of  all  men  in  the 
world  be  he,  was  the  greatest  vexation  fate  could  in- 
flict upon  him.  Mr.  Hahn  was  respectable  ;  there  was 
nothing  to  be  said  against  his  family ;  but  he  was  Mr. 
Hummel's  natural  opponent,  for  the  business  of  the 
new  settler  was  also  in  hats,  although  straw  hats.  The 
manufacture  of  this  light  trash  was  never  considered 
as  dignified,  manly  work ;  it  was  not  a  guild  handi- 
craft ;  it  never  had  the  right  to  make  apprentices 
journeymen  ;  it  was  formerly  carried  on  only  by  Italian 
peasants ;  it  had  only  lately,  like  other  bad  customs, 
spread  through  the  world  as  a  novelty;  it  is,  in  fact, 
not  a  business — the  plait-straw  is  bought  and  sewed 
together  by  young  girls  who  are  engaged  by  the  week. 
And  there  is  an  old  enmity  between  the  felt  hat  and 
straw  hat.  The  felt  hat  is  an  historical  power  con- 
secrated through  thousands  .of  years — it  only  tolerates 
the  cap  as  an  ordinary  contrivance  for  work-days. 


THE    HOSTILE    NEIGHBORS.  23 

Now  the  straw  hat  raises  its  pretensions  against  pre- 
scribed right,  and  insolently  lays  claim  to  half  of  the 
year.  And  since  then  approbation  fluctuates  between 
these  two  appurtenances  of  the  human  race.  When 
the  unstable  minds  of  mortals  wavered  toward  straw, 
the  most  beautiful  felts,  velveteen,  silk,  and  pasteboard 
were  left  unnoticed  and  eaten  by  moths.  On  the  other 
hand,  when  the  inclinations  of  men  turned  to  felt, 
every  human  being — women,  children,  and  nurses — 
wore  men's  small  hats ;  then  the  condition  of  straw 
was  lamentable — no  heart  beat  for  it,  and  the  mouse 
nestled  in  its  most  beautiful  plaits. 

This  was  a  strong  ground  for  indignation  to  Mr. 
Hummel,  but  worse  was  to  come.  He  saw  the  daily 
progress  of  the  hostile  house  ;  he  watched  the  scaffold- 
ing, the  rising  walls,  the  ornaments  of  the  cornice, 
and  the  rows  of  windows — it  was  two  windows  higher 
than  his  house.  The  ground  floor  rose,  then  a  second 
floor,  and  at  last  a  third.  All  the  work-rooms  of  the 
straw  hat  manufacturer  were  attached  to  the  dwelling. 
The  house  of  Mr.  Hummel  had  sunk  into  insignifi- 
cance. He  then  went  to  his  lawyer  and  demanded 
redress  for  the  obstruction  of  his  light  and  the  view 
from  his  residence  ;  the  man  of  law  naturally  shrugged 
his  shoulders.  The  privilege  of  building  houses  was 
one  of  the  fundamental  rights  of  man  ;  it  was  the  com- 
mon German  custom  to  live  in  houses,  and  it  was  ob- 
viously hopeless  to  propose  that  Hahn  should  only 
erect  on  his  piece  of  ground  a  canvas  tent.  Thus 
there  was  absolutely  nothing  to  do  but  to  submit  pa- 
tiently, and  Mr.  Hummel  might  have  known  that  him- 
self. 

Years  had  passed  away.  At  the  same  hour  the 
light  of  the  sun  gilds  both  houses ;  there  they  stand 


24  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

stately  and  inhabited,  both  occupied  by  men  who  daily 
pass  each  other.  At  the  same  hour  the  letter-carrier 
enters  both  houses,  the  pigeons  fly  from  one  roof  to 
the  other,  and  the  sparrows  hop  around  on  the  gutters 
of  both,  in  the  most  cordial  relations.  About  one  house 
there  is  sometimes  a  faint  smell  of  sulphur,  and  about 
the  other,  of  singed  hair ;  but  the  same  summer  wind 
wafts  from  the  wood,  through  the  doors  of  both  dwell- 
ings, the  scent  of  the  pine-trees  and  the  perfumes  of 
the  lime-flowers.  And  yet  the  intense  aversion  of  the 
inhabitants  has  not  diminished.  The  house  of  Hahn 
objects  to  singed  hair,  and  the  family  of  Hummel  cough 
indignantly  in  their  garden  whenever  they  suspect 
sulphur  in  the  oxygen  of  the  air. 

It  is  true  that  decorous  behavior  to  the  neighbor- 
hood was  not  quite  ignored ;  and  though  the  felt  was 
inclined  to  be  quarrelsome,  the  straw  was  more  pliant, 
and  showed  itself  tractable  in  many  cases.  Both  men 
were  acquainted  with  a  family  in  which  they  occasion- 
ally met,  nay,  both  had  once  been  godfathers  to  the 
same  child,  and  care  had  been  taken  that  one  should 
not  give  a  smaller  christening  gift  than  the  other. 
This  unavoidable  acquaintance  necessitated  formal 
greetings  whenever  they  could  not  avoid  meeting  each 
other.  But  there  it  ended.  Between  the  shopmen 
who  cleaned  the  straw  hats  with  sulphur,  and  the 
workmen,  who  presided  over  the  hare-skins,  there 
existed  an  intense  hatred.  And  the  people  who  dwelt 
in  the  nearest  houses  in  the  street  knew  this,  and  did 
their  best  to  maintain  the  existing  relation.  But,  in 
fact,  the  character  of  both  would  scarcely  harmonize. 
Their  dialect  was  different,  their  education  had  been 
different,  the  favorite  dishes  and  the  domestic  arrange- 
ments that  were  approved  by  one  displeased  the  other. 


THE    HOSTILE    NEIGHBORS.  25 

Hummel  was  of  North  German   lineage  ;  Harm  had 
come  hither  from  a  small  town  in  the  neighborhood. 

MM* 

When  Mr.  Hummel  spoke  of  his  neighbor  Hahn, 
he  called  him  a  man  of  straw  and  a  fantastical  fellow. 
Mr.  Hahn  was  a  thoughtful  man,  quiet  and  industrious 
in  his  business,  but  in  his  hours  of  recreation  he  de- 
voted himself  to  some  peculiar  fancies.  These  were 
undoubtedly  intended  to  make  a  favorable  impression 
on  the  people  who  passed  by  the  two  houses  on  their 
way  to  the  meadow  and  the  woods.  In  his  little  garden 
he  had  collected  most  of  the  contrivances  of  modern 
landscape-gardening.  Between  the  three  elder-bushes 
there  rose  up  a  rock  built  of  tufa,  with  a  small,  steep 
path  to  the  top.  The  expedition  to  the  summit  could 
be  ventured  upon  without  an  Alpenstock  by  strong 
mountain  climbers  only,  and  even  they  would  be  in 
danger  of  falling  on  their  noses  on  the  jagged  tufa. 
The  following  year,  near  the  railing,  poles  were  erected 
at  short  intervals,  round  which  climbed  creepers, 
and  between  each  pole  hung  a  colored  glass  lamp. 
When  the  row  of  lamps  was  lighted  up  on  festive 
evenings  they  threw  a  magic  splendor  on  the  straw 
hats  which  were  placed  under  the  elder  bushes,  and 
which  challenged  the  judgment  of  the  passers-by. 
The  following  year  the  glass  lamps  were  superseded 
by  Chinese  lanterns.  Again,  the  next  year,  the  garden 
bore  a  classical  aspect,  for  a  white  statue  of  a  muse, 
surrounded  by  ivy  and  blooming  wall-flowers,  shone 
forth  far  into  the  wood. 

In  the  face  of  such  novelties  Mr.  Hummel  remained 
firm  to  his  preference  for  water.  In  the  rear  of  his 
house  a  small  stream  flowed  toward  the  town.  Every 
year  his  boat  was  painted  the  same  green,  and  in  his 
leisure  hours  he  loved  to  go  alone  in  his  boat  and  to 


26  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

row  from  the  houses  to  the  park.  He  took  his  rod  in 
his  hand  and  devoted  himself  to  the  pleasure  of  catch- 
ing gudgeons,  minnows,  and  other  small  fish. 

Doubtless,  the  Hummel  family  were  more  aristo- 
cratic,— that  is,  more  determined,  more  out  of  the 
common,  and  more  difficult  to  deal  with.  Of  all  the 
housewives  of  the  street,  Mrs.  Hummel  displayed  the 
greatest  pretensions  by  her  silk  dresses  and  gold  watch 
and  chain.  She  was  a  little  lady  with  blonde  curls, 
still  very  pretty  ;  she  had  a  seat  at  the  theatre,  was 
accomplished  and  kind-hearted,  and  very  irascible. 
She  looked  as  if  she  did  not  concern  herself  about  any- 
thing, but  she  knew  everything  that  happened  in  the 
street.  Her  husband  was  the  only  one  who,  at  times, 
was  beyond  her  control.  Yet,  although  Mr.  Hummel 
was  tyrannical  to  all  the  world,  he.  sometimes  showed 
his  wife  great  consideration.  When  she  was  too  much 
for  him  in  the  house,  he  quietly  went  into  the  garden, 
and  if  she  followed  him  there,  he  ensconced  himself  in 
the  factory  behind  a  bulwark  of  felt. 

But  also  Mrs.  Hummel  was  subject  to  a  higher 
power,  and  this  power  was  exercised  by  her  little 
daughter,  Laura.  This  was  the  only  surviving  one  of 
several  children,  and  all  the  tenderness  and  affection 
of  the  mother  were  lavished  upon  her.  And  she  was 
a  splendid  little  girl ;  the  whole  town  knew  her  ever 
since  she  wore  her  first  red  shoes ;  she  was  often  de- 
tained when  in  the  arms  of  her  nurse;  and  had  many 
presents  given  her.  She  grew  up  a  merry,  plump  little 
maiden,  with  two  large  blue  eyes  and  round  cheeks, 
with  dark,  curly  hair,  and  an  arch  countenance. 
When  the  little,  rosy  daughter  of  Mr.  Hummel  walked 
along  the  streets,  her  hands  in  the  pockets  of  her 
apron,  she  was  the  delight  of  the  whole  neighborhood. 


THE    HOSTILE    NEIGHBORS.  27 

Sprightly  and  decided,  she  knew  how  to  behave  toward 
all,  and  was  never  backward  in  offering  her  little 
mouth  to  be  kissed.  She  would  give  the  woodcutter 
at  the  door  her  buttered  roll,  and  join  him  in  drinking 
the  thin  coffee  out  of  his  cup ;  she  accompanied  the 
letter-carrier  all  along  the  street,  and  her  greatest 
pleasure  was  to  run  with  him  up  the  steps,  to  ring  and 
deliver  his  letters  ;  she  even  once  slipped  out  of  the 
room  late  in  the  evening>  and  placed  herself  by  the 
watchman,  on  a  corner-stone,  and  held  his  great  horn 
in  impatient  expectation  of  the  striking  of  the  hour  at 
which  it  was  to  be  sounded.  Mrs.  Hummel  lived  in 
unceasing  anxiety  lest  her  daughter  should  be  stolen  ; 
for,  more  than  once  she  had  disappeared  for  many 
hours ;  she  had  gone  with  children,  who  were  strangers, 
to  their  homes,  and  had  played  with  them — she  was 
the  patroness  of  many  of  the  little  urchins  in  the  street, 
knew  how  to  make  them  respect  her,  gave  them 
pennies,  and  received  as  tokens  of  esteem  dolls  and 
little  chimney-sweeps,  constructed  of  dried  plums  and 
little  wooden  sticks.  She  was  a  kind-hearted  child 
that  rather  laughed  than  wept,  and  her  merry  face 
contributed  more  toward  making  the  house  of  Mr. 
Hummel  a  pleasant  abode,  than  the  ivy  arbor  of  the 
mistress  of  the  house,  or  the  massive  bust  of  Mr.  Hum- 
mel himself,  which  looked  down  imperiously  on  Lau- 
ra's doll-house. 

"The  child  is  becoming  unbearable,"  exclaimed 
Mrs.  Hummel,  angrily  dragging  in  the  troubled  Laura 
by  the  hand.  "  She  runs  about  the  streets  all  day  long. 
Just  now  when  I  came  from  market  she  wa.s  sitting 
near  the  bridge,  on  the  chair  of  the  fruit-woman,  sell- 
ing onions  for  her.  Everyone  was  gathering  around 
her,  and  I  had  to  fetch  my  child  out  of  the  cro'wd. " 

\ 


28  THE    LOST   MANUSCRIPT. 

"The  little  monkey  will  do  well,"  answered  Mr. 
Hummel,  laughing  ;  "  why  will  you  not  let  her  enjoy 
her  childhood?" 

"She  must  give  up  this  low  company.  She  lacks 
all  sense  of  refinement ;  she  hardly  knows  her  alphabet, 
and  she  has  no  taste  for  reading.  It  is  time,  too,  that 
she  should  begin  her  French  letters.  Little  Betty,  the 
councillor's  daughter,  is  not  older,  and  she  knows  how 
to  call  her  mother  chere  mere,  in  such  a  pretty  man- 
ner." 

"The  French  are  a  polite  people,"  answered  Mr. 
Hummel.  "If  you  are  so  anxious  to  train  your 
daughter  for  the  market,  the  Turkish  language  would 
be  better  than  the  French.  The  Turk  pays  money  if 
you  dispose  of  your  child  to  him  ;  the  others  wish  to 
have  something  into  the  bargain." 

"Do  not  speak  so  inconsiderately,  Henry !"  ex- 
claimed the  wife. 

"Be  off  with  you  and  your  cursed  French  letters, 
else  I  promise  you  I  will  teach  the  child  all  the  French 
phrases  I  know  ;  they  are  not  many,  but  they  are 
strong.  Baisez-moi,  Madame  Hummel!"  Saying  this, 
he  left  the  room  with  an  air  of  defiance. 

The  result,  however,  of  this  consultation  was  that 
Laura  went  to  school.  It  was  very  difficult  for  her 
to  listen  and  be  silent,  and  for  a  longtime  her  progress 
was  not  satisfactory.  But  at  last  her  little  soul  was 
fired  with  ambition  ;  she  climbed  the  lower  steps  of 
learning  with  Miss  Johanne,  and  then  she  was  pro- 
moted to  the  renowned  Institute  of  Miss  Jeannette, 
where  the  daughters  of  families  of  pretension  received 
education  in  higher  branches.  There  she  learned  the 
tributaries  of  the  Amazon,  and  much  Egyptian  history ; 
she  could  touch  the  cover  of  the  electrophorus,  speak 


THE    HOSTILE    NEIGHBORS.  2Q 

of  the  weather  in  French,  and  read  English  so  in- 
geniously that  even  true-born  Britons  were  obliged  to 
acknowledge  that  a  new  language  had  been  discovered  ; 
lastly,  she  was  accomplished  in  all  the  elegancies  of 
German  composition.  She  wrote  small  treatises  on 
the  difference  between  walking  and  sleeping,  on  the 
feelings  of  the  famed  Cornelia,  mother  of  the  Gracchi, 
on  the  terrors  of  a  shipwreck,  and  of  the  desert  island 
on  which  she  had  been  saved.  Finally,  she  gained 
some  knowledge  of  the  composition  of  strophes  and 
sonnets.  It  soon  became  clear  that  Laura's  strong 
point  was  German,  not  French ;  her  style  was  the  de- 
light of  the  Institute ;  nay,  she  began  to  write  poems 
in  honor  of  her  teachers  and  favorite  companions,  in 
which  she  very  happily  imitated  the  difficult  rhymes 
of  the  great  Schiller's  "Song  of  the  Bell."  She  was 
now  eighteen,  a  pretty,  rosy,  young  lady,  still  plump 
and  merry,  still  the  ruling  power  of  the  house,  and 
still  loved  by  all  the  people  on  the  street. 

The  mother,  proud  of  the  accomplishments  of  her 
daughter,  after  her  confirmation,  prepared  an  upper 
room  for  her,  looking  out  upon  the  trees  of  the  park  ; 
and  Laura  fitted  up  her  little  home  like  a  fairy  castle, 
with  ivy-vines,  a  little  flower-table,  and  a  beautiful 
ink-stand  of  china  on  which  shepherds  and  shepherd- 
esses were  sitting  side  by  side.  There  she  passed  her 
pleasantest  hours  with  her  pen  and  paper,  writing  hei 
diary  in  secret. 

She  also  partook  of  the  aversion  of  her  parents  for 
the  neighboring  family.  Even  as  a  little  child  she  had 
passed  poutingly  before  the  door  of  that  house ;  never 
had  her  foot  crossed  its  threshold,  and  when  good 
Mrs.  Hahn  once  asked  her  to  shake  hands,  it  was  long 
before  she  could  make  up  her  mind  to  take  her  hand 


30  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

out  of  her  apron  pocket.  Of  the  inhabitants  of  the 
neighboring  house  the  one  most  annoying  to  her  was 
young  Fritz  Hahn.  She  seldom  associated  with  him, 
but  unfortunately  she  was  always  in  some  embarrass- 
ment which  enabled  Fritz  Hahn  to  act  the  part  of  her 
protector.  Before  she  went  to  school,  the  eldest  son  of 
Mrs.  Knips,  already  quite  a  big  fellow,  who  painted 
fine  pictures  and  birthday  cards,  and  sold  them  to  peo- 
ple in  the  neighborhood,  wished  to  compel  her  to  give 
the  money  she  held  in  her  hand  for  a  devil's  head  which 
he  had  painted,  and  which  no  one  in  the  street  would 
have ;  he  treated  her  so  roughly  and  so  ill,  that  con- 
trary to  her  wont,  she  became  frightened  and  gave  him 
her  pennies,  and  weeping,  held  the  horrible  picture 
in  her  hand.  Fritz  Hahn  happened  to  come  that  way, 
inquired  what  had  taken  place,  and  when  she  com- 
plained to  him  of  Knips's  violent  conduct,  he  grew  so 
indignant  that  she  became  frightened  about  him.  He 
set  upon  the  lad,  who  was  his  school-fellow  and  in  a 
class  above  him,  and  began  to  thrash  him  on  the  spot, 
while  the  younger  Knips  looked  on  laughing,  with  his 
hands  in  his  pocket.  Fritz  pushed  the  naughty  boy 
against  the  wall  and  compelled  him  to  give  up  the 
money  and  take  back  his  devil.  But  this  meeting  did 
not  help  to  make  her  like  Fritz  any  the  better.  She 
could  not  bear  him,  because  already  as  an  undergrad- 
uate he  wore  spectacles,  and  always  looked  so  serious. 
And  when  she  came  from  school,  and  he  went  with 
his  portfolio  to  the  lecture,  she  always  endeavored  to 
avoid  him. 

On  another  occasion  they  happened  to  meet.  She 
was  among  the  first  girls  in  the  Institute;  the  oldest 
Knips  was  already  Magister,  and  the  younger  appren- 
tice in  her  father's  business,  and  Fritz  Hahn  had  just 


THE    HOSTILE    NEIGHBORS.  31 

become  a  doctor.  She  had  rowed  herself  between  the 
trees  in  the  park  till  the  boat  struck  a  snag  and  her  oar 
fell  into  the  water.  As  she  was  bending  down  to  re- 
cover it,  she  also  lost  her  hat  and  parasol.  Laura,  in 
her  embarrassment,  looked  to  the  shore  for  help. 
Again  it  so  happened  that  Fritz  Hahn  was  passing, 
lost  in  thought.  He  heard  the  faint  cry  which  had 
escaped  her,  jumped  into  the  muddy  water,  fished  up 
the  hat  and  parasol,  and  drew  the  boat  to  the  shore. 
Here  he  offered  Laura  his  hand  and  helped  her  on  to 
dry  ground.  Laura  undoubtedly  owed  him  thanks, 
and  he  had  also  treated  her  with  respect  and  called  her 
Miss.  But  then  he  looked  very  ridiculous,  he  bowed 
so  awkwardly,  and  he  stared  at  her  so  fixedly  through 
his  glasses.  And  when  she  afterwards  learned  that  he 
had  caught  a  terrible  cold  from  his  jump  into  the 
swamp,  she  became  indignant,  both  at  herself  and  at 
him,  because  she  had  screamed  when  there  was  no 
danger,  and  he  had  rushed  to  her  aid  with  such  useless 
chivalry.  She  could  have  helped  herself,  and  now  the 
Hahns  would  think  she  owed  them  no  end  of  thanks. 

On  this  point  she  might  have  been  at  ease,  for 
Fritz  had  quietly  changed  his  clothes  and  dried  them 
in  his  room. 

But  indeed  it  was  quite  natural  that  the  two  hostile 
children  should  avoid  each  other,  for  Fritz  was  of  quite 
a  different  nature.  He  also  was  an  only  child,  and  had 
been  brought  up  tenderly  by  a  kind-hearted  father  and 
a  too  anxious  mother.  He  was,  from  his  earliest  child- 
hood, quiet  and  self-possessed,  unassuming  and  studi- 
ous. In  his  home  he  had  created  for  himself  a  little 
world  of  his  own  where  he  indulged  in  out-of-the-way 
studies.  Whilst  around  him  was  the  merry  hum  of 
life,  he  pored  over  Sanskrit  characters,  and  investi- 


32  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

gated  the  relations  between  the  wild  spirits  that  hov- 
ered over  the  Teutoburger  battle,  and  the  gods  of  the 
Veda,  who  floated  over  palm-woods  and  bamboos  in 
the  hot  valley  of  the  Ganges.  He  also  was  the  pride 
and  joy  of  his  family ;  his  mother  never  failed  to  bring 
him  his  cup  of  coffee  every  morning  ;  then  she  seated 
herself  opposite  him  with  her  bunch  of  keys,  and  looked 
silently  at  him  while  he  ate  his  breakfast,  scolded  him 
gently  for  working  so  late  the  previous  night,  and 
told  him  that  she  could  not  sleep  quietly  till  she  heard 
him  push  back  his  chair  and  place  his  boots  before  the 
door  to  be  cleaned.  After  breakfast,  Fritz  went  to 
his  father  to  bid  him  good  morning,  and  he  knew  that 
it  gave  his  father  pleasure  when  he  walked  with  him 
for  a  few  minutes  in  the  garden,  observing  the  growth 
of  his  favorite  flowers,  and  when,  above  all,  he  ap- 
proved of  his  garden  projects.  This  was  the  only  point 
on  which  Mr.  Hahn  was  sometimes  at  variance  with 
his  son  ;  and,  as  he  could  not  refute  his  son's  argu- 
ments, nor  restrain  his  own  strong  aesthetic  incli- 
nations, he  adopted  methods  which  are  often  resorted 
to  by  greater  politicians — he  secretly  prepared  his 
projects,  and  surprised  his  son  with  the  execution  of 
them. 

Amidst  this  tranquil  life,  intercourse  with  the 
Professor  was  the  greatest  pleasure  of  the  day  to  our 
young  scholar ;  it  elevated  him  and  made  him  happy. 
He  had,  while  yet  a  student,  heard  the  first  course  of 
lectures  given  by  Felix  Werner  at  the  University.  A 
friendship  had  gradually  arisen,  such  as  is  perhaps  only 
possible  among  highly-cultivated,  sound  men  of  learn- 
ing. Fritz  became  the  devoted  confidant  of  the  inex- 
haustible activity  of  his  friend.  Every  investigation 
of  the  Professor,  with  its  results,  was  imparted  to  him, 


THE    HOSTILE    NEIGHBORS.  33 

even  to  the  most  minute  details,  and  the  pleasure  of 
every  new  discovery  was  shared  by  the  neighbors. 
Thus  the  best  portion  of  their  life  was  passed  together. 
Fritz,  indeed,  as  the  younger,  was  more  a  receiver 
than  giver ;  but  it  was  just  this  that  made  the  relation 
so  firm  and  deep.  This  intercourse  was  not  without 
occasional  differences,  as  is  natural  with  scholars ;  for 
both  were  hasty  in  judgment ;  both  were  very  exacting 
in  the  requirements  which  they  made  on  themselves 
and  others,  and  both  were  easily  excited.  But  such 
differences  were  soon  settled,  and  only  served  to  in- 
crease the  loving  consideration  with  which  they  treated 
each  other. 

Through  this  friendship  the  bitter  relations  be- 
tween the  two  houses  were  somewhat  mitigated .  Even 
Mr.  Hummel  could  not  help  showing  some  respect  for 
the  Doctor,  as  his  highly-honored  tenant  paid  such 
striking  marks  of  distinction  to  the  son  of  the  enemy. 
For  Mr.  Hummel's  respect  for  his  tenant  was  un- 
bounded. He  heard  that  the  Professor  was  quite 
celebrated  in  his  specialty,  and  he  was  inclined  to 
value  earthly  fame  when,  as  in  this  case,  there  was 
profit  in  it.  Besides,  the  Professor  was  a  most  ex- 
cellent tenant.  He  never  protested  against  any  rule 
which  Mr.  Hummel,  as  chief  magistrate  of  the  house, 
prescribed.  He  had  once  asked  the  advice  of  Mr. 
Hummel  concerning  the  investment  of  some  capital. 
He  possessed  neither  dog  nor  cat,  gave  no  parties,  and 
did  not  sing  with  his  window  open,  nor  play  bravura 
pieces  on  the  piano.  But  the  main  point  was,  that  he 
showed  to  Mrs.  Hummel  and  Laura,  whenever  he  met 
them,  the  most  chivalrous  politeness,  which  well  be- 
came the  learned  gentleman.  Mrs.  Hummel  was  en- 
chanted with  her  tenant  ;  and  Mr.  Hummel  always 


34  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

deemed  it  expedient  not  to  mention  his  intention  of 
raising  the  rent  to  his  family,  because  he  foresaw  a 
general  remonstrance  from  the  ladies. 

Now  the  hobgoblin  who  ran  to  and  fro  between 
both  houses,  throwing  stones  in  the  way,  and  making 
sport  of  men,  had  tried  also  to  excite  these  two 
noble  souls  against  each  other.  But  his  attempt  was 
a  miserable  failure  ;  these  worthy  men  were  not  dis- 
posed to  dance  to  his  discordant  pipes. 

Early  the  following  morning,  Gabriel  took  a  letter 
from  his  master  to  the  Doctor.  As  he  passed  the  hos- 
tile threshold,  Dorchen,  the  servant  of  the  Hahn  family, 
hastily  came  toward  him  with  a  letter  from  her  young 
master  to  the  Professor.  The  messengers  exchanged 
letters,  and  the  ^two  friends  read  them  at  the  same 
moment. 

The  Professor  wrote  : — 

"  My  dear  friend — Do  not  be  angry  with  me  be- 
cause I  have  again  been  vehement ;  the  cause  of  it  was 
as  absurd  as  possible.  I  must  honestly  tell  you  that 
what  put  me  out  was  your  having  so  unconditionally 
refused  to  edit  with  me  a  Latin  text.  For  the  pos- 
sibility of  finding  the  lost  manuscript,  which  we  in  our 
pleasant  dreams  assumed  for  some  minutes,  was  the 
more  enticing  to  me,  because  it  opened  the  prospect 
of  an  employment  in  common  to  us  both.  And  if  I 
wish  to  draw  you  within  the  narrow  circle  of  my  stud- 
ies, you  may  take  for  granted  that  it  is  not  only  from 
personal  feeling,  but  far  more  from  the  wish  of  my 
heart  to  avail  myself  of  your  ability  for  the  branch  of 
learning  to  which  I  confine  myself." 

Fritz,  on  the  other  hand,  wrote  : — 
"  My  very  dear  friend — I  feel  most  painfully  that 
my  irritability  yesterday  spoilt  for  us  both  a  charming 


THE    HOSTILE    NEIGHBORS.  35 

evening.  But  do  not  think  that  I  mean  to  dispute 
your  right  to  reproach  me  for  the  prolixity  and  want  of 
system  in  my  labors.  It  was  just  because  what  you 
said  touched  a  cord,  the  secret  dissonance  of  which  I 
have  myself  sometimes  felt,  that  I  for  a  moment  lost 
my  equanimity.  You  are  certainly  right  in  much  that 
you  said,  only  I  beg  you  to  believe  that  my  refusal  to 
undertake  a  great  work  in  conjunction  with  you  was 
neither  selfishness  nor  want  of  friendship.  I  am  con- 
vinced that  I  ought  not  to  abandon  the  work  I  have 
undertaken,  even  though  too  extensive  for  my  powers  ; 
least  of  all  exchange  it  for  a  new  circle  of  interests,  in 
which  my  deficient  knowledge  would  be  a  burden  to 
you." 

After  the  reception  of  these  letters  both  were  some- 
what more  at  ease.  But  certain  expressions  in  them 
made  some  further  explanation  necessary  to  both,  so 
they  set  to  work  and  wrote  again  to  each  other, 
shortly  and  pithily,  as  became  thoughtful  men.  The 
Professor  answered:  "I"  thank  you  from  my  heart, 
my  dear  Fritz,  for  your  letter ;  but  I  must  repeat  that 
you  always  estimate  your  own  worth  too  low,  and  this 
is  all  that  I  can  reproach  you  with." 

Fritz  replied  :  "  How  deeply  touched  I  feel  by 
your  friendship  at  this  moment !  This  only  will  I  say, 
that  among  the  many  things  I  have  to  learn  from  you, 
there  is  nothing  I  need  more  than  your  modesty ;  and 
when  you  speak  of  your  knowledge  so  comprehensive 
and  fertile  in  results,  as  being  limited,  be  not  angry 
it  I  strive  after  the  same  modesty  with  regard  to  my 
work." 

After  sending  the  letter,  the  Professor,  still  dis- 
quieted, went  to  his  lecture,  and  was  conscious  that  his 
mind  wandered  during  his  discourse.  Fritz  hastened 


36  THE    LOST   MANUSCRIPT. 

to  the  library,  and  diligently  collected  all  the  references 
which  he  could  find  respecting  the  Manor  of  Bielstein. 
At  midday,  on  their  return  home,  each  of  them  read 
the  second  letter  of  his  friend  :  then  the  Professor  fre- 
quently looked  at  the  clock,  and  when  it  struck  three 
he  hastily  put  on  his  hat  and  went  with  great  strides 
across  the  street  to  the  hostile  house.  As  he  laid  hold 
of  the  door-knob  of  the  Doctor's  room,  he  felt  a  counter 
pressure  from  within.  Pushing  the  door  open,  he 
found  Fritz  standing  before  him,  also  with  his  hat  on, 
intending  to  visit  him.  Without  saying  a  word  the 
two  friends  embraced  each  other. 

"  I  bring  you  good  tidings  from  the  book-seller," 
began  the  Professor. 

"And  I  of  the  old  Manor,"  exclaimed  Fritz. 

"  Listen,"  said  the  Professor.  "The  book-seller 
bought  the  monk's  book  of  a  retail-dealer  who  travels 
about  the  country  collecting  curiosities  and  old  books. 
The  man  was  brought  into  my  presence  ;  he  had  him- 
self bought  the  little  book  in  the  town  of  Rossau,  at 
an  auction  of  the  effects  of  a  cloth- maker,  together 
with  an  old  cupboard  and  some  carved  stools.  It  is  at 
least  possible  that  the  remarks  in  cipher  at  the  end, 
which  evade  unpracticed  eyes,  may  never,  after  the 
death  of  the  friar,  have  excited  observation  nor  caused 
investigation.  Perhaps  there  may  still  be  preserved 
in  some  church-record  at  Rossau  an  account  of  the 
life  and  death  of  the  monk  Tobias  Bachhuber." 

"Possibly, "-assented  Fritz,  much  pleased.  "A 
congregation  of  his  persuasion  still  exists.  But  Manor. 
Bielstein  lies  at  a  distance  of  half  an  hour  from  the 
town  of  Rossau,  on  a  woody  height — see,  here  is  the 
map.  It  formerly  belonged  to  the  ruling  sovereign, 
but  in  the  last  century  it  passed  into  private  hands  ; 


THE    HOSTILE    NEIGHBORS.  37 

the  buildings,  however,  remain.  It  is  represented  on 
this  map  as  an  old  chateau,  at  present  the  residence 
of  a  Mr.  Bauer.  My  father  also  knows  about  the 
house ;  he  has  seen  it  from  the  high  road  on  his  jour- 
neys, and  describes  it  as  a  long  stretch  of  buildings, 
with  balconies  and  a  high  roof." 

"The  threads  interweave  themselves  into  a  satis- 
factory web,"  said  the  Professor,  complacently. 

"Stop  a  moment,"  cried  the  Doctor,  eagerly. 
"The  traditions  of  this  province  have  been  collected 
by  one  of  our  friends.  The  man  is  trustworthy.  Let 
us  see  whether  he  has  recorded  any  reminiscences  of 
the  neighborhood  of  Rossau. "  He  hastily  opened  and 
looked  into  a  book,  and  then  gazed  speechless  at  his 
friend. 

The  Professor  seized  the  volume  and  read  this 
short  notice  :  "  It  is  said  that  in  the  olden  times  the 
monks  in  the  neighborhood  of  Bielstein  walled  up  a 
great  treasure  in  the  manor-house." 

Again  did  a  vision  of  the  old,  mysterious  manu- 
script arise  before  the  eyes  of  the  friends  so  distinctly 
that  it  might  be  seized. 

"It  is  certainly  not  impossible  that  the  manuscript 
may  yet  lie  concealed,"  remarked  the  Professor,  at 
last,  with  assumed  composure.  "Instances  of  similar 
discoveries  are  not  lacking.  It  is  not  long  since  that 
a  ceiling  of  a  room  in  the  old  house  of  the  proprietor 
of  my  home  was  broken  through ;  it  was  a  double 
ceiling,  and  the  empty  space  contained  a  number  of 
records  and  papers  concerning  the  ownership,  and 
some  old  jewels.  The  treasure  had  been  concealed 
in  the  time  of  the  great  war,  and  no  one  for  a  century 
had  heeded  the  lowly  ceiling  of  the  little  room." 

"Naturally,"  exclaimed  Fritz,  rubbing  his  hands. 


38  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

"And  within  the  facing  of  old  chimneys  empty  spaces 
are  sometimes  found.  A  brother  of  my  mother's 
found,  on  rebuilding  his  house,  in  such  a  place  a  pot 
full  of  coins."  He  drew  out  his  purse.  "  Here  is  one 
of  them,  a  beautiful  Swedish  dollar;  my  uncle  gave  it 
to  me  at  my  confirmation  as  a  luck-penny,  and  I  have 
carried  it  in  my  purse  ever  since.  I  have  often  strug- 
gled against  the  temptation  to  spend  it." 

The  Professor  closely  examined  the  head  of  Gusta- 
vus  Adolphus,  as  if  he  had  been  a  neighbor  of  the  con- 
cealed Tacitus,  and  would  convey  information  con- 
cerning the  lost  book  in  its  inscription.  "It  is  true," 
he  said,  reflectively,  "if  the  house  is  on  a  height,  even 
the  cellars  may  be  dry." 

"  Undoubtedly,"  answered  the  Doctor.  "Often, 
too,  the  thick  walls  were  built  double,  and  the  inter- 
vening space  filled  with  rubbish.  In  such  a  case  it 
would  be  easy,  through  a  small  opening,  to  make  a 
hollow  space  in  the  inside  of  the  wall." 

"But  now,"  began  the  Professor,  rising,  "the 
question  arises,  what  are  we  to  do  ?  For  the  knowl- 
edge of  such  a  thing,  whether  it  be  of  great  or  little 
importance,  imposes  upon  the  investigator  the  duty  of 
doing  all  that  is  possible  to  promote  the  discovery. 
And  this  duty  we  must  fulfill  promptly  and  completely." 

"If  you  impart  this  record  to  the  public,  you  will 
allow  the  prospect  of  discovering  the  manuscript  to 
pass  out  of  your  own  hands." 

"In  this  business,  every  personal  consideration 
must  be  dismissed,"  said  the  Professor,  decisively. 

"And  if  you  now  make  known  the  cloister-record 
you  have  found,"  continued  the  Doctor,  "who  can 
answer  for  it,  that  the  nimble  activity  of  some  anti- 
quary, or  some  foreigner,  may  not  prevent  all  further 


THE    HOSTILE    NEIGHBORS.  39 

investigations  ?  In  such  a  case  the  treasure,  even  if 
faund,  would  be  lost,  not  only  to  you,  but  also  to  our 
country  and  to  science." 

"That,  at  least,  must  not  be,"  cried  the  Professor. 

"  And  besides,  even  if  you  apply  to  the  government 
of  the  province,  it  is  very  doubtful  whether  they  will 
render  you  any  assistance,"  replied  the  Doctor,  tri- 
umphantly. 

"I  do  not  think  of  committing  the  matter  to  stran- 
gers and  officials,"  answered  the  Professor.  "We 
have  a  person  in  the  neighborhood  whose  good  for- 
tune and  acuteness  in  tracing  out  rarities  is  wonderful. 
I  have  a  mind  to  tell  Magister  Knips  of  the  manu- 
script; he  may  lay  aside  his  proof-sheets  for  a  few 
days,  travel  for  us  to  Rossau,  and  there  examine  the 
ground." 

The  Doctor  jumped  up.  "That  will  never  do. 
Knips  is  not  the  man  to  trust  with  such  a  secret." 

"I  have  always  found  him  trustworthy,"  replied 
the  Professor.  "  He  is  wonderfully  skillful  and  well- 
informed." 

"To  me  it  would  appear  a  desecration  of  this  fine 
discovery,  to  employ  such  a  man,"  answered  Fritz, 
"and  I  would  never  consent  to  it." 

"  In  that  case,"  cried  the  Professor,  "  I  have  made 
up  my  mind.  The  vacation  is  at  hand ;  I  will  go  my- 
self to  the  old  house.  And  as  you,  my  friend,  intended 
to  travel  for  a  few  days,  you  must  accompany  me  ;  we 
shall  go  together.  Here  is  my  hand  on  it." 

"With  all  my  heart,"  cried  the  Doctor,  clasping 
his  friend's  hand.  "We  will  penetrate  into  the  manor- 
house,  and  summon  the  spirits  which  hover  over  the 
treasure." 

"We  will  first  come  to  an  understanding  with  the 


40  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

owner  of  the  house.  Then  we  shall  see  what  is  to  be 
done.  Meanwhile  let  us  keep  the  affair  secret." 

"That  is  right,"  assented  Fritz ;  and  the  friends 
descended,  well  satisfied,  into  the  garden  of  Mr.  Hahn, 
and,  pausing  for  a  few  moments  beneath  the  White 
Muse,  they  consulted  with  regard  to  the  opening  of  the 
campaign. 

The  imagination  of  the  Scholar  was  fast  pent 
up  by  his  methodical  train  of  thought;  but  in  the 
depths  of  his  soul  there  was  a  rich  and  abundant 
stream  from  the  secret  source  of  all  beauty  and  energy. 
Now  a  hole  had  been  torn  in  the  dam,  and  the  flood 
poured  itself  joyfully  over  the  seed.  Ever  did  the 
wish  for  the  mysterious  manuscript  return  to  him. 
He  saw  before  him  the  opening  in  the  wall,  and  the 
first  glimmer  of  light  falling  on  the  grey  books  in  the 
hollow ;  he  saw  the  treasure  in  his  hands  as  he  drew 
it  out,  and  would  not  part  with  it  till  he  had  deci- 
phered the  illegible  pages.  Blessed  spirit  of  Brother 
Tobias  Bachhuber,  if  thou  shouldst  spend  any  of  thy 
holiday-time  in  heaven  in  coming  back  to  our  poor 
earth,  and  if  then  at  night  thou  glidest  through  the 
rooms  of  the  old  manor,  guarding  thy  treasure  and 
scaring  inquisitive  meddlers,  pray,  nod  kindly  to  the 
man  who  now  approaches  to  bring  thy  secret  to  the 
light  of  day,  for  truly  he  seeks  not  honor  nor  gain  for 
himself,  but  he  conjures  you,  in  the  name  of  all  that 
is  good,  to  assist  a  well-meaning  man. 

CHAPTER  III. 
A    FOOL'S    ERRAND. 

WHOEVER  on  a  certain  sunny  harvest-morning  in. 
August  had  looked  down  from  the  heights  in  the  di- 


A    FOOL'S    ERRAND.  4! 

rection  of  Rossau,  would  have  observed  an  object 
moving  along  the  road  between  the  meadows  that 
extended  to  the  gates  of  the  city.  On  closer  observa- 
tion two  travelers  might  be  perceived,  one  taller  than 
the  other,  both  wearing  light  summer  clothes,  the 
freshness  of  which  had  been  sullied  by  the  stprmy  rain 
of  the  last  few  days.  They  had  both  leather  traveling- 
bags,  which  hung  by  straps  from  their  shoulders ;  the 
taller  one  wore  a  broad-brimmed  felt  hat,  the  shorter 
one  a  straw  hat. 

The  travelers  were  evidently  strangers,  for  they 
stopped  at  times  to  observe  and  enjoy  the  view  of  the 
valley  and  hills,  which  is  seldom  the  custom  with  people 
born  in  the  country.  The  district  had  not  yet  been 
discovered  by  pleasure-seekers  ;  there  were  no  smooth 
paths  in  the  woods  for  the  thin  boots  of  towns-folk ; 
even  the  carriage  road  was  not  a  work  of  art,  the  water 
lay  in  the  tracks  made  by  the  wheels ;  the  sheep-bells 
and  the  axe  of  the  wood- cutter  only  were  heard  by  the 
dwellers  of  the  neighborhood,  who  were  working  in 
the  fields  or  passing  on  their  way  to  their  work.  And 
yet  the  country  was  not  without  charm  ;  the  woody 
hills  were  marked  in  bold  outlines,  a  stone-quarry 
might  be  seen  between  the  fields  in  the  plain,  or  the 
head  of  a  rock  jutted  out  from  amongst  the  trees. 
From  the  hills  on  the  horizon  a  small  brook  wound  its 
course  to  the  distant  river,  bordered  by  strips  of 
meadow,  behind  which  the  arable  land  ran  up  to  the 
woody  heights.  The  lovely  landscape  looked  bright 
in  the  morning  sunshine. 

In  the  low  country  in  front  of  the  travelers  rose  to 
view,  surrounded  by  hills,  the  village  of  Rossau,  a 
little  country-town  with  two  massive  church  towers 
and  dark-tiled  roofs,  which  projected  above  the  walls 


42  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

of  the  place  like  the  backs  of  a  herd  of  cattle  that 
had  crowded  together  for  protection  against  a  pack  of 
wolves. 

The  strangers  looked  from  their  high  position  with 
warm  interest  on  the  chimneys  and  towers  behind  the 
old  discolored  and  patched  walls  that  lay  before 
them.  In  that  place  had  once  been  preserved  a 
treasure,  which,  if  found  again,  would  interest  the 
whole  civilized  world  and  excite  hundreds  to  intel- 
lectual labor.  The  landscape  looked  exactly  like  other 
German  landscapes,  and  the  village  was  e-xactly  like 
other  German  villages  ;  and  yet  there  was  an  attrac- 
tion about  the  place  that  inspired  a  joyful  hope  in 
the  travelers.  Was  it  the  globe-like  ornament  that 
crowned  the  stout  old  tower?  or  was  it  the  arch  of  the 
gate  whieh  just  veiled  from  the  travelers  in  alluring 
darkness  the  entrance  to  the  town  ?  or  the  stillness  of 
the  empty  valley,  in  which  the  place  lay  without 
suburbs  and  outhouses,  as  the  towns  are  portrayed  on 
old  maps  ?  or  the  herds  of  cattle  that  went  out  of 
the  gate  into  the  open  space,  and  bounded  merrily  on 
the  pasture  ground  ?  or  was  it  perhaps  the  keen 
morning  air  which  blew  about  the  temples  of  the 
wanderers  ?  Both  felt  that  something  remarkable  and 
promising  hovered  over  the  valley  in  which,  as  search- 
ers of  the  past,  they  were  entering. 

"Imagine  the  landscape  as  it  once  appeared  to  the 
eye,"  began  the  Professor;  "the  forest,  in  olden  times, 
encircled  the  town  more  closely  ;  the  hills  seemed 
higher,  the  valley  deeper;  the  monastery  then  lay, 
with  the  dwellings  of  its  dependants,  as  in  a  deep  basin. 
There,  to  the  south,  where  the  country  sharply  rises, 
the  monks  had  their  vineyards.  Gradually  the  houses 
of  the  town  drew  about  the  monastery.  Take  from 


A    FOOL'S    ERRAND.  43 

those  towers  beyond  us  the  caps  that  were  placed 
upon  them  a  century  ago,  give  them  back  their  old 
pinnacles,  place  here  and  there  a  turret  on  the  walls, 
and  you  have  an  ideal,  wondrously  beautiful  picture  of 
mediaeval  days." 

"And  upon  the  same  road  that  leads  us  thither, 
a  learned  monk  once  strode  with  his  precious  manu- 
scripts towards  the  quiet  valley;  there  to  teach  his 
companions,  or  to  shield  himself,  perhaps,  from  power- 
ful enemies,"  the  Doctor  said,  with  enthusiasm. 

The  travelers  passed  by  the  pasture  ground ;  the 
herdsmen  looked  with  indifference  at  the  strangers ; 
but  the  cows  placed  themselves  by  the  edge  of  the 
ditch  and  stared,  while  the  young  ones  of  the  herd 
bellowed  at  them  inquiringly.  They  went  through  the 
dark  arch  of  the  gate  and  looked  curiously  along  the 
streets.  It  was  a  poor  little  town,  the  main  street 
alone  was  paved,  and  that  badly.  Not  far  from  the 
gate  the  sloping  beam  of  a  well  projected  high  in  the 
air,  and  from  it  hung  along  pole  with  a  bucket  attached. 
Few  people  were  to  be  seen,  those  who  were  not  work- 
ing in  the  houses  were  occupied  in  the  field  ;  for  the 
straws  which  stuck  in  the  stone  crevices  of  the  arch  of 
the  gate  showed  that  harvest  wagons  were  carrying  the 
fruits  of  the  fields  to  the  farm-yards  of  the  citizens. 
Near  many  of  the  houses  there  were  open  wooden 
doors,  through  which  one  could  look  into  the  yard 
and  barns,  and  over  the  dung  heap  on  which  small 
fowls  were  pecking.  The  last  century  had  altered  the 
place  but  little,  and  the  low  houses  still  stood  with 
their  gables  to  the  front.  Instead  of  the  coats  of 
arms,  there  projected  into  the  street  the  signs  of 
artisans,  carved  in  tin-  or  wood,  and  painted — such  as 
a  large  wooden  boot ;  a  griffin,  holding  enormous  shears 


44  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

in  its  hand  ;  or  a  rampant  lion,  that  extended  a  bretzel ; 
or,  as  the  most  beautiful  masterpiece  of  all,  a  regular 
hexagon  of  colored  glass  panes. 

"  Much  has  been  retained  of  mediaeval  times  here," 
said  the  Professor. 

The  friends  came  to  the  market-place,  an  irregular 
space,  the  little  houses  of  which  were  adorned  with 
bright  paint.  There  on  an  insignificant  building  prom- 
inently stood  a  red  dragon  with  a  curled  tail,  carved 
out  of  a  board,  and  supported  in  the  air  on  an  iron 
pole.  Upon  it  was  painted,  in  ill-formed  letters, 
"The  Dragon  Inn." 

"See,"  said  Fritz,  pointing  to  the  dragon,  "the 
fancy  of  the  artist  has  carved  him  with  a  pike's  head 
and  thick  teeth.  The  dragon  is  the  oldest  treasure- 
preserver  of  our  legends.  It  is  remarkable  how  firmly 
the  recollection  of  this  legendary  animal  everywhere 
clings  to  the  people.  Probably  this  sign-board  origin- 
ates from  some  tradition  of  the  place." 

They  ascended  the  white  stone  steps  into  the  house, 
utterly  unconscious  that  they  had  long  been  watched 
by  sharp  eyes.  A  citizen,  who  was  taking  his  morning 
draught,  exclaimed  to  the  stout  host,  "Who  can  these 
be  ?  They  do  not  look  like  commercial  travelers ;  per- 
haps one  of  them  is  the  new  parson  from  Kirchdorf." 

"Parsons don't  look  like  that," said  the  inn-keeper, 
decidedly,  who  knew  men  better;  "they  are  strangers 
on  foot,  no  carriage  and  no  luggage." 

The  strangers  entered,  placed  themselves  at  a  red- 
painted  table,  and  ordered  breakfast.  "A  beautiful 
country,  mine  host, "  began  the  Professor;  "magnif- 
icent trees  in  your  forests." 

"Yes,"  answered  the  host. 


A    FOOL'S    ERRAND.  45 

"A  weal  thy  neighborhood,  apparently,"  continued 
the  Professor. 

"People  complain  that  they  do  not  earn  enough," 
replied  the  host. 

"How  many  clergy  have  you  in  the  place?  " 

"Two,  "said  the  host,  more  politely.  "But  the 
old  pastor  is  dead  ;  meanwhile,  there  is  a  candidate 
here." 

"  Is  the  other  pastor  at  home  ?  " 

"I  do  not  know,"  said  the  landlord. 

"Have  you  a  court  of  justice  here  ?  " 

"We  have  a  Justice  of  the  Peace  ;  he  is  now  here — 
court  is  in  session  to-day." 

"Was  there  not  in  former  times  a  monastery  in 
the  city?"  said  the  Doctor,  taking  up  the  examination. 

The  citizen  and  the  landlord  looked  at  each  other. 
"That  is  long  since,"  replied  the  master  of  the  inn. 

"Does  not  the  Manor  of  Bielstein  lie  in  the  neigh- 
borhood ?  "  inquired  Fritz. 

Again  the  citizen  and  the  landlord  looked  signifi- 
cantly at  each  other. 

"It  lies  somewhere  here  in  the  neighborhood," 
answered  the  landlord,  with  reserve. 

"  How  long  does  it  take  to  go  to  the  manor?"  asked 
the  Professor,  irritated  by  the  short  answers  of  the 
man. 

"Do  you  wish  to  go  there  ?  "  inquired  the  landlord. 
"Do  you  know  the  owner  ? " 

"No,"  answered  the  Professor. 

"Have  you  any  business  with  him?" 

"That  is  our  affair,"  answered  the  Professor, 
curtly. 

"  The  road  leads  through  the  wood,  and  takes  half 
an  hour — you  cannot  miss  it ;  "  and  the  landlord  ab- 


46  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

ruptly  closed  the  conversation  and  left  the  room.  The 
citizen  followed  him. 

"We  have  not  learnt  much,"  said  the  Doctor, 
laughing.  "I  hope  the  pastor  and  magistrate  will  be 
more  communicative." 

"We  will  go  direct  to  the  place,"  said  the  Pro- 
fessor, with  decision. 

Meanwhile  the  landlord  and  the  citizen  consulted 
together.  ' '  Whatever  the  strangers  may  be, "  repeated 
the  citizen,  "they  are  not  ecclesiastics,  and  they  did 
not  seem  to  care  for  the  magistrate.  Did  you  remark 
how  they  inquired  about  the  monastery  and  the  Manor?" 
The  landlord  nodded.  "  I  will  tell  you  my  suspicion," 
continued  the  citizen,  eagerly;  "they  have  not  come 
here  for  nothing;  they  are  after  something." 

"What  can  that  be?"  asked  the  landlord,  pond- 
ering. 

"They  are  disguised  Jesuits  ;  that's  what  they  look 
like  to  me. " 

"Well,  if  they  intend  to  seek  a  quarrel  with  the 
people  at  the  Manor,  they  will  find  their  match." 

"  I  am  on  my  way  now  to  the  Inspector  on  business  ; 
I  will  give  him  a  hint." 

"  Do  not  meddle  with  what  does  not  concern  you," 
said  the  landlord,  warningly.  But  the  citizen  only 
held  the  boots  he  carried,  tighter  under  his  arm,  and 
drove  round  the  corner. 

Our  two  friends  left,  disgusted  with  the  lack  of 
courtesy  they  encountered  at  the  Dragon.  They  in- 
quired the  way  to  the  manor  of  an  old  woman  at  the 
opposite  gate  of  the  city.  Behind  the  town  the  path 
rose  from  the  gravel  bed  of  the  brook  to  the  woody 
height.  They  entered  a  clearing  of  underbrush,  from 
v/hich,  here  and  there,  rose  up  high  oaks.  The  rain 


A    FOOL'S    ERRAND.  47 

of  the  last  evening  still  hung  in  drops  on  the  leaves — 
the  deep  green  of  summer  glistened  in  the  sun's  rays — 
the  song  of  birds  and  the  tapping  of  the  woodpecker 
above  broke  the  stillness. 

"This  puts  one  in  different  frame  of  mind,"  ex- 
claimed the  Doctor,  cheerfully. 

"  It  requires  very  little  to  call  forth  new  melodies 
in  a  well-strung  heart,  if  fate  has  not  played  on  it  with 
too  rough  a  hand.  The  bark  of  a  few  trees  covered 
with  hoary  moss,  a  handful  of  blossoms  on  the  turf, 
and  a  few  notes  from  the  throats  of  birds,  are  suffi- 
cient," replied  the  philosophic  Professor.  "Hark! 
that  is  no  greeting  of  nature  to  the  wanderer,"  added 
he,  listening  attentively,  as  the  sound  of  distant  voices 
chanting  a  choral,  fell  softly  on  his  ear.  The  sound 
appeared  to  come  from  above  the  trees. 

"Let  us  go  higher  up,"  exclaimed  the  Doctor,  "to 
the  mysterious  place  where  old  church-hymns  murmur 
through  the  oaks." 

They  ascended  the  hill  some  hundred  steps,  and 
found  themselves  on  an  open  terrace,  one  side  of  which 
was  surrounded  by  trees.  In  the  clearing  stood  a  small 
wooden  church  surrounded  by  a  graveyard  ;  some  dis- 
tance beyond  on  a  massive  extent  of  rock  rose  a  great 
old  building,  the  roof  of  which  was  broken  by  many 
pointed  gables. 

"How  all  harmonizes  !"  exclaimed  the  Professor, 
looking  curiously  over  the  little  church  up  to  the 
Manor-house. 

A  funeral  chant  was  heard  more  clearly  from  the 
church.  "Let  us  go  in,"  said  the  Doctor,  pointing  to 
the  open  door. 

"To  my  mind  it  is  more  seemly  to  remain  without," 
answered  the  Professor;  "it  is  repulsive  to  me  to  in- 


48  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

trude  either  on  the  pleasures  or  sorrows  of  strangers. 
The  hymn  is  finished  ;  now  comes  the  pastor's  little 
discourse." 

Fritz  meanwhile  had  climbed  the  low  stone  wall 
and  was  examining  the  church.  "Look  at  the  massive 
buttresses.  It  is  the  remains  of  an  old  building  ;  they 
have  repaired  it  with  pinewood  ;  the  tower  and  roof 
are  black  with  age  ;  it  would  be  worth  our  while  to  see 
the  inside." 

The  Professor  held  in  his  hand  the  long  shoot  of  a 
bramble  bush  which  hung  over  the  wall,  looking  with 
admiration  at  its  white  blossoms,  and  at  the  green  and 
brown  berries  which  grew  in  thick  clusters.  The  sound 
of  a  man's  voice  fell  indistinctly  on  his  ear,  and  he 
bent  his  head  involuntarily  to  catch  the  words. 

"Let  us  hear,"  he  said  at  last,  and  entered  the 
churchyard  v/ith  his  friend.  They  took  off  their  hats 
and  quietly  opened  the  church  door.  It  was  a  very 
small  hall ;  the  bricks  of  the  old  choir  had  been  white- 
washed ;  the  chancel,  a  gallery,  and  a  few  benches 
were  of  brown  firwood.  Before  the  altar  lay  open  a 
child's  coffin,  the  form  within  was  covered  with  flowers. 
Beside  it  stood  several  country  people  in  simple  attire  ; 
on  the  steps  of  the  altar  was  an  aged  clergyman  with 
white  hair  and  a  kind  face ;  and  at  the  head  of  the 
coffin  -the  wife  of  a  laborer,  mother  of  the  little  one, 
sobbing.  Beside  her  stood  a  fine,  womanly  form  in 
city  dress ;  she  had  taken  off  her  hat,  and  with  folded 
hands  was  looking  down  on  the  child  that  lay  among 
the  flowers.  Thus  she  stood,  motionless  ;  the  sun 
fell  obliquely  on  the  waving  hair  and  regular  feat- 
ures of  the  young  face.  But  more  captivating  than 
the  tall  figure  and  beautiful  head  was  the  expression 
of  deep  devotion  that  pervaded  the  whole  counte- 


A    FOOL'S    ERRAND.  49 

nance.  The  Professor  involuntarily  seized  hold  of  his 
friend's  arm  to  detain  him.  The  clergyman  made 
his  concluding  prayer ;  the  stately  maiden  bowed  her 
head  lower,  then  bent  down  once  more  to  the  little 
one,  and  wound  her  arm  round  the  mother,  who  leaned 
weeping  on  her  comforter.  Thus  she  stood,  speaking 
gently  to  the  mother,  while  tears  rolled  down  from  her 
eyes.  How  spirit-like  sounded  the  murmurs  of  that 
rich  voice  in  the  ear  of  her  friend  !  Then  the  men  lifted 
the  coffin  from  the  ground  and  followed  the  clergyman, 
who  led  the  way  to  the  churchyard.  Behind  the  coffin 
went  the  mother,  her  head  still  on  the  shoulder  of  her 
supporter.  The  maiden  passed  by  the  strangers,  gaz- 
ing before  her  with  an  inspired  look,  whispering  in  her 
companion's  ear  words  from  the  Bible:  "The  Lord 
gave,  and  the  Lord  hath  taken  away.  Let  little  chil- 
dren come  unto  me."  Her  gentle  accents  were  heard 
even  by  the  friends.  The  mother  hung  broken-hearted 
on  the  arm  of  the  girl,  and,  as  if  borne  along  by 
the  gentle  tones,  tottered  to  the  grave.  Reverently 
did  the  friends  follow  the  procession.  The  coffin  was 
lowered  into  the  grave,  the  clergyman  pronounced  the 
blessing,  and  each  one  present  threw  three  handfuls  of 
earth  on  the  departed  one.  Then  the  country  people 
separated,  leaving  a  free  passage  for  the  mother  and 
her  companion.  The  latter  gave  her  hand  to  the 
clergyman,  and  then  conducted  the  mother  slowly 
across  the  churchyard  to  the  road  which  led  to  the 
Manor. 

The  friends  followed  at  some  distance,  without  look- 
ing at  each  other.  The  Professor  passed  his  hand  over 
his  eyes.  "  Such  incidents  are  always  very  touching," 
he  said,  sorrowfully. 

"As  she  stood  at  the  altar,"  exclaimed  the  Doctor, 


5O  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

"she  seemed  like  a  prophetess  of  the  olden  time,  with 
an  oaken  crown  on  her  head.  She  drew  the  poor 
woman  on  by  her  gentle  accents.  The  words  were  from 
our  good,  old  Bible ;  and  now  I  understand  the  sig- 
nificant meaning  in  ancient  times  of  the  word  '  whis- 
per,' to  which  a  magic  power  was  ascribed.  She  took 
possession  of  the  mourner  body  and  soul,  and  her 
voice  sank  deep  into  my  heart  also.  What  was  she, 
maid  or  married  woman  ?  " 

"She  is  a  maiden,"  answered  the  Professor,  im- 
pressively. "She  dwells  at  the  Manor,  and  we  shall 
meet  her  there.  Let  her  go  on,  and  we  will  wait  at 
the  foot  of  the  rock." 

They  sat  some  time  on  a  projecting  stone.  The 
Professor  never  seemed  weary  of  contemplating  a  tuft 
of  moss;  he  brushed  it  with  his  hand,  laying  it  now  on 
one  side,  now  on  the  other.  At  last  he  arose  quickly. 
"Whatever  may  come  of  it,  let  us  go  on." 

They  ascended  the  hill  some  hundred  steps.  The 
landscape  before  them  suddenly  changed.  On  one 
side  lay  the  manor-precincts  with  a  walled  gateway 
and  a  courtyard,  in  which  stood  large  farm-buildings; 
before  them,  a  wide  plain  of  arable  land  sloped  down 
from  the  height  into  a  rich  valley.  The  lonely  wood- 
land landscape  had  disappeared  ;  around  the  wanderers 
was  the  active  stir  of  daily  life  ;  the  wind  waved  through 
the  seas  of  corn ;  harvest  wagons  were  passing  up  the 
roads  through  the  fields;  the  whip  cracked  and  the 
sheaves  were  swung  by  strong  arms  over  the  rails  of 
the  wagons. 

"  Hello  !  what  are  you  looking  for  here  ?  "  demanded 
a  deep  bass  voice  behind  the  strangers,  in  an  impera- 
tive tone.  The  friends  turned  quickly.  Before  the 
farmyard-gate  stood  a  powerful,  broad-shouldered  man, 


A    FOOL'S    ERRAND.  51 

with  close-cut  hair,  and  an  expression  of  deep  energy 
in  his  sunbrown  face ;  behind  him  stood  farm-em- 
ployees and  laborers,  stretching  their  heads  out  with 
curiosity  through  the  gate,  and  a  large  dog  ran  bark- 
ing toward  the  strangers.  "Back,  Nero,"  called  out 
his  master,  and  whistled  to  the  dog,  at  the  same  time 
scanning  the  strangers  with  a  cold,  searching  look. 

"Have  I  the  honor  of  addressing  the  proprietor  of 
this  estate,  a  Mr.  Bauer?"  inquired  the  Professor. 

"I  am  that  person,  and  who  are  you?"  asked  the 
Proprietor  in  return. 

The  Professor  gave  their  names,  and  that  of  the 
place  from  which  they  came.  The  host  approached 
and  examined  them  both  from  head  to  foot. 

"There  are  no  Jesuits  there,  I  suppose,"  he  said  ; 
"but  if  you  come  here  to  find  some  hidden  treasure, 
your  journey  is  useless  ;  you  will  find  nothing." 

The  friends  looked  at  each  other ;  they  were  near 
the  house,  but  far  from  the  goal. 

"You  make  us  feel,"  answered  the  Professor,  "that 
we  have  approached  your  dwelling  without  an  intro- 
duction. Although  you  have  already  made  a  guess  as 
to  the  object  of  our  journey,  yet  I  beg  of  you  to  permit 
us  to  make  an  explanation  before  fewer  witnesses." 

The  dignified  demeanor  of  the  Professor  did  not 
fail  to  have  an  effect.  "If  you  really  have  business 
with  me,  it  would  be  better  certainly  to  settle  it  in  the 
house.  Follow  me,  gentlemen."  He  lifted  his  cap  a 
little,  pointed  with  his  hand  to  the  gate,  and  went  ahead. 
"Nero,  you  brute,  can't  you  be  quiet?" 

The  Professor  and  the  Doctor  followed,  while  the 
farm  hands  and  laborers  and  the  growling  dog  closed 
in  behind.  Thus  the  strangers  were  conducted  in  a 
not  very  cordial  manner  to  the  house.  In  spite  of  their 


52  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

unpleasant  position,  they  looked  with  curiosity  at  the 
great  farmyard,  the  work  going  on  in  the  barns,  and  a 
flock  of  large  geese  which,  disturbed  by  the  party,  wad- 
dled cackling  across  the  road.  Then  their  eyes  fell 
upon  the  dwelling  itself,  the  broad  stone  steps  with 
benches  on  both  sides,  the  vaulted  door,  and  the  white 
washed  escutcheon  on  the  keystone.  They  entered  a 
roomy  hall,  the  Proprietor  hung  up  his  cap,  laid  hold 
with  strong  hand  of  the  latch  of  the  sitting-room  door, 
and  again  made  a  movement  of  the  hand,  which  was 
intended  to  be  polite  and  to  invite  the  strangers  to 
enter.  "Now,  that  we  are  alone,"  he  began,  "how 
can  I  serve  you  ?  You  have  already  been  announced 
tome  as  two  treasure-seekers.  If  you  are  that,  I  must 
begin  by  plainly  telling  you  that  I  will  not  encourage 
such  follies.  Apart  from  that,  I  am  glad  to  see  you." 

"But  we  are  not  treasure-seekers,"  rejoined  the 
Professor;  "and  as  we  have  kept  the  object  of  our 
journey  a  secret  everywhere,  we  do  not  understand 
how  you  could  hear  so  erroneous  a  report  concerning 
the  occasion  of  our  coming." 

"The  shoemaker  of  my  steward  brought  him  the 
intelligence  together  with  a  pair  of  mended  boots ;  he 
saw  you  at  the  tavern  in  the  town,  and  grew  suspicious 
because  of  your  questions." 

"  He  has  exercised  more  ingenuity  than  was  called 
for  by  our  harmless  questions,"  answered  the  Professor. 
"And  yet  he  was  not  altogether  wrong." 

"Then  there  is  something  in  it,"  interrupted  the 
Proprietor,  gloomily;  "in  that  case  I  must  beg  you, 
gentlemen,  not  to  trouble  yourselves  or  me  further.  I 
have  no  time  for  such  nonsense." 

"First  of  all,  have  the  goodness  to  hear  us  before 
so  curtly  withdrawing  your  hospitality,"  replied  the 


A    FOOL'S    ERRAND.  53 

Professor,  calmly.  "We  have  come  with  no  other  aim 
than  to  impart  to  you  something  concerning  the  im- 
portance of  which  you  may  yourself  decide.  And  not 
only  we,  but  others,  might  reproach  you  if  you  refused 
our  request  without  taking  it  into  consideration.  The 
matter  concerns  you  more  than  us." 

"Of  course,"  said  the  host,  " we  are  acquainted 
with  this  style  of  speech." 

"Not  quite,"  continued  the  Professor;  "there  is  a 
difference  according  to  who  uses  it,  and  to  what  pur- 
pose." 

"Well,  then,  in  the  devil's  name,  speak,  but  be 
clear,"  exclaimed  the  Proprietor,  impatiently. 

"Not  till  you  have  shown  yourself  ready,"  con- 
tinued the  Professor,  "to  pay  the  attention  the  im- 
portance of  the  subject  deserves.  A  short  explanation 
will  be  necessary,  and  you  have  not  even  invited  us  to 
sit  down." 

"Be  seated,"  replied  the  Proprietor,  and  offered 
chairs. 

The  Professor  began  :  "A  short  time  ago,  among 
other  written  records  of  the  monks  of  Rossau,  I  acci- 
dentally found  some  observations  in  a  manuscript  which 
may  be  of  the  greatest  importance  to  the  branch  of 
learning  to  which  I  devote  myself." 

"And  what  is  your  branch  of  learning?"  inter- 
rupted the  host,  unmoved. 

"I  am  a  philologist." 

"That  means  one  who  studies  ancient  languages?" 
asked  the  Proprietor. 

"It  is  so,"  continued  the  Professor.  "It  is  stated 
by  a  monk,  in  the  volume  I  have  mentioned,  that  about 
the  year  1500  there  existed  in  the  monastery  a  valuable 
manuscript,  containing  a  history  by  the  Roman,  Tac- 


54  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

itus.  The  work  of  the  renowned  historian  is  only  very 
imperfectly  preserved  to  us  in  some  other  well-known 
manuscripts.  A  second  notice  from  the  same  book,  in 
April,  1637,  mentions  that  during  the  troublous  war- 
times the  last  monks  of  the  monastery  had  concealed 
from  the  Swedes  their  church  treasures  and  manu- 
scripts in  a  hollow,  dry  place  in  the  Manor-house  of 
Bielstein.  These  are  the  words  I  have  found ;  I  have 
nothing  further  to  impart  to  you.  We  have  no  doubt 
of  the  genuineness  of  both  notices.  I  have  brought 
with  me  an  abstract  of  the  passages  concerning  it,  and 
I  am  ready  to  submit  the  original  to  your  inspection, 
or  that  of  any  competent  judge  whom  you  may  choose. 
I  will  only  add  now  that  both  I  and  my  friend  know 
well  how  unsatisfactory  is  the  communication  we  make 
to  you,  and  how  uncertain  is  the  prospect  that  after 
two  centuries  any  of  the  buried  possessions  of  the  mon- 
astery should  be  forthcoming.  And  yet  we  have  made 
use  of  a  vacation  to  impart  to  you  this  discovery,  even 
at  the  probable  risk  of  a  fruitless  search.  But  we  felt 
ourselves  bound  in  duty  to  make  this  journey,  not  espe- 
cially on  your  account — although  this  manuscript,  if 
found,  would  be  of  great  value  to  you — but  principally 
in  the  interest  of  science,  for  in  that  point  of  view  such 
a  discovery  would  be  invaluable." 

The  Proprietor  had  listened  attentively,  but  he  left 
untouched  the  paper  that  the  Professor  had  laid  on 
the  table  before  him.  Then  he  began  :  "  I  see  that  you 
do  not  mean  to  deceive  me,  and  that  you  tell  me  the 
whole  truth  with  the  best  intentions.  I  understand 
your  explanation.  Your  Latin  I  cannot  read  ;  but  that 
is  not  necessary,  for,  with  regard  to  this  matter,  I  believe 
you.  But,"  he  continued,  laughing,  "there  is  one 
thing  which  the  learned  gentlemen  living  so  far  away 


A    FOOL'S    ERRAND.  55 

do  not  know,  and  that  is,  that  this  house  has  the  mis- 
fortune to  be  considered  throughout  the  whole  country 
as  a  place  in  which  the  old  monks  have  concealed 
treasures." 

"That  was  not,  of  course,  unknown  to  us,"  re- 
joined the  Doctor,  "and  it  would  not  diminish  the  sig- 
nificance of  these  written  records." 

"Then  you  were  greatly  in  error.  It  is  surely  clear 
that  such  a  report,  which  has  been  believed  in  a 
country  through  many  generations,  has  meanwhile 
stirred  up  persons  who  are  superstitious  and  greedy  of 
gain,  to  discover  these  supposed  treasures.  How  can 
you  imagine  that  you  are  the  first  to  conceive  the 
thought  of  making  a  search  ?  This  is  an  old,  strong- 
built  house,  but  it  would  be  stronger  still  if  it  did  not 
show  traces  from  cellar  to  roof  that  in  former  times 
holes  have  been  made  and  the  damage  left  unrepaired. 
Only  a  few  years  ago  I  had,  at  much  cost  and  trouble, 
to  place  new  beams  into  the  roof,  because  roof  and 
ceiling  were  sinking,  and  it  appeared,  on  examination, 
that  unscrupulous  men  had  sawed  off  a  piece  of  the 
rafter,  in  order  to  grope  into  a  corner  of  the  roof.  And 
I  tell  you  frankly,  that  if  I  have  met  with  anything 
disagreeable  from  the  old  house,  in  which  for  twenty 
years  I  have  experienced  both  happiness  and  misfor- 
tune, it  has  been  from  this  troublesome  report.  Even 
now  an  investigation  is  being  carried  on  in  the  town 
respecting  a  treasure-seeker,  who  has  deceived  cred- 
ulous people  in  giving  out  that  he  could  conjure 
up  treasures  from  this  hill.  His  accomplices  are  still 
being  tracked.  You  may  ascribe  it  to  your  questions 
in  the  town,  that  the  people  there,  who  are  much  ex- 
cited because  of  the  deception,  have  taken  you  to  be 
assistants  of  the  impostor.  My  rude  greeting  was  also 


56  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

owing  to  this.  I  must  therefore  ask  your  pardon 
for  it." 

"Then  you  will  not  agree,"  asked  the  Professor, 
dissatisfied,  "  to  make  use  of  our  communication  for 
further  researches  ?  " 

"No,"  replied  the  Proprietor,  "I  will  not  make 
such  a  fool  of  myself.  If  your  book  mentions  nothing 
more  than  what  you  have  told  me,  this  account  is  of 
little  use.  If  the  monks  have  concealed  anything  here, 
it  is  a  hundred  to  one  that  they  have  taken  it  away 
again  in  quieter  times.  And  even  if,  contrary  to  all 
probability,  the  concealed  objects  should  remain  in 
their  place — as  since  then  some  hundred  years  have 
passed — other  hungry  people  would  long  ago  have  dis- 
interred them.  These  are,  pardon  me,  nursery  stories, 
only  fit  for  spinning-rooms.  I  have  a  great  aversion 
to  all  these  notions  that  necessitate  pulling  down 
walls.  The  husbandman  should  dig  in  his  fields  and 
not  in  his  house ;  his  treasures  lie  beneath  God's 
sun." 

The  cold  demeanor  of  the  man  made  the  Professor's 
blood  boil.  He  with  difficulty  controlled  his  rising 
anger,  and,  approaching  the  window,  looked  out  at  a 
bevy  of  sparrows  that  were  twittering  vehemently  at 
one  another.  At  last,  turning  round,  he  began  : — 

"The  owner  of  a  house  has  the  right  of  refusal. 
If  you  persist  we  shall  certainly  leave  you  with  a  feel- 
ing of  regret  that  you  do  not  know  how  to  appreciate 
the  possible  importance  of  our  communication.  I  have 
been  unable  to  avoid  this  meeting,  although  I  was 
aware  how  uncertain  are  the  impressions  formed  in  a 
first  interview  with  strangers.  Our  communication 
would  perhaps  have  received  more  attention  if  it  had 
come  to  you  through  the  medium  of  your  government, 


A    FOOL'S    ERRAND.  57 

accompanied  by  a  requisition  to  commence  an  active 
search." 

' '  Do  you  regret  that  you  have  not  taken  that  course  ?" 
asked  the  Proprietor,  laughing. 

"To  speak  frankly,  no.  I  have  no  confidence  in 
official  protocols  in  such  matters." 

''Nor  have  I,"  answered  the  Proprietor,  drily. 
"Ours  is  a  small  province,  the  seat  of  Government  is 
at  a  distance,  and  .we  are  surrounded  by  foreign  do- 
minions. I  have  nothing  to  do  with  the  court;  years 
'pass  without  my  going  there ;  the  government  does  not 
bother  us,  and  in  my  district  I  control  the  police.  If 
my  government  were  to  attribute  importance  to  your 
wishes,  they  would  probably  call  for  a  report  from  me, 
and  that  would  cost  me  a  sheet  of  paper  and  an  hour's 
writing.  Perhaps,  if  you  made  enough  ado,  they 
might  also  send  a  commission  to  my  house.  These 
would  announce  themselves  to  me  about  dinner-time, 
and  I  should  take  them  to -the  cellars  after  dinner; 
they  would,  for  form's  sake,  knock  a  little  upon  the 
walls,  and  I  meanwhile  would  have  a  few  bottles  of 
wine  opened.  At  last  a  paper  would  be  quickly  writ- 
ten, and  the  affair  would  be  settled.  I  am  thankful 
that  you  have  not  adopted  this  method.  Moreover,  I 
would  defend  my  household  rights,  even  against  my 
sovereign." 

"It  is  vain,  it  appears  to  me,  to  speak  to  you  of 
the  value  of  the  manuscript,"  interposed  the  Professor, 
severely. 

"It  would  be  of  no  avail,"  said  the  Proprietor.  It 
is  questionable  whether  such  a  curiosity,  even  if  found 
on  my  property,  would  be  of  essential  value  to  myself. 
As  to  the  value  to  your  branch  of  learning,  I  only 
know  it  from  what  you  say;  but  neither  for  myself  nor 


58  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

for  you  will  I  stir  a  finger,  because  I  do  not  believe 
that  such  a  treasure  is  concealed  on  my  estate,  and 
I  do  not  choose  to  sacrifice  myself  for  an  improbability. 
This  is  my  answer,  Professor." 

The  Professor  again   stepped  silently  to  the  win 
dow.      Fritz,  who,  although  indignant,  had  restrained 
himself,  felt  that  it  was  time  to  put  an  end  to  the  con- 
versation, and  rose  to  take  his  departure.      "So  you 
have  given  us  your  final  decision?-" 

"I  regret  that  I  can  give  you  no  other  answer," 
replied  the  Proprietor,  compassionately,  looking  at  the 
two  strangers.  "I  really  am  sorry  that  you  have  come 
so  far  out  of  your  way.  If  you  desire  to  see  my  farm, 
every  door  shall  be  opened  to  you.  The  walls  of  my 
house  I  open  to  no  one.  I  am,  moreover,  ready  to 
keep  your  communication  a  secret,  and  the  more  so, 
as  this  would  also  be  to  my  own  interest." 

1 '  Your  refusal  to  allow  any  search  to  be  made  on  your 
property  renders  any  further  secrecy  unnecessary,"  an- 
swered the  Doctor.  "All  that  remains  to  my  friend 
now  is  to  publish  his  discovery  in  some  scientific  pe- 
riodical. He  will  then  have  done  his  duty,  and  per- 
haps others  may  be  more  successful  with  you  than  we 
have  been." 

The  Proprietor  started  up.  "Confound  you,  sir; 
what  the  devil  do  you  mean  ?  Will  you  tell  your  story 
to  your  colleagues  ?  Probably  these  will  think  very 
much  as  you  do." 

"Undoubtedly  hundreds  will  view  the  matter  ex- 
actly as  we  do,  and  will  also  condemn  your  refusal," 
exclaimed  the  Doctor. 

"Sir,  how  you  judge  me  is  a  matter  of  indifference 
to  me ;  I  am  perfectly  willing  to  have  you  paint  me  as 
black  as  your  love  of  truth  will  allow,"  exclaimed  the 


A    FOOL'S    ERRAND.  59 

Proprietor,  indignantly.  "But  I  see  that  all  will  be  of 
no  avail.  Hang  the  monks  and  their  treasure  !  Now  I 
may  every  Sunday  and  every  hour  of  your  vacation 
expect  a  visit  like  this  one — strange  people  with  spec- 
tacles and  umbrellas,  who  will  claim  the  right  to  creep 
under  the  wooden  trestles  of  my  dairy,  and  to  climb 
on  the  ceiling  of  the  nursery.  The  devil  take  this 
Tacitus  ! " 

The  Professor  took  his  hat.  "We  beg  to  take  leave 
of  you,"  and  went  toward  the  door. 

"Stop, 'my  good  gentlemen,"  cried  the  host,  dis- 
composed; "not  so  quickly.  I  would  rather  deal  with 
you  two  than  have  an  incessant  pilgrimage  of  your  col- 
leagues. Wait  a  moment,  and  I  will  make  this  propo- 
sition to  you.  You,  yourselves,  shall  go  through  my 
house,  from  garret  to  cellar ;  it  is  a  severe  tax  upon 
me  and  my  household,  but  I  will  make  the  sacrifice. 
If  you  find  a  place  that  you  think  suspicious,  we  will 
talk  it  over.  On  the  other  hand,  promise  me  that  you 
will  be  silent  with  respect  to  the  object  of  your  visit 
here  before  my  people.  My  laborers  are  already  suf- 
ficiently aroused  without  this;  if  you  encourage  this 
unfortunate  rumor,  I  cannot  answer  for  it  that  the  idea 
will  not  occur  to  my  own  people  to  break  through  the 
foundation-wall  at  a  corner  of  the  house.  My  house  is 
open  to  you  the  whole  day  as  long  as  you  are  my 
guests.  But  then,  when  you  speak  or  write  concern- 
ing the  matter,  I  demand  that  you  shall  add  that  you 
have  done  all  in  your  power  to  search  through  my 
house,  but  have  found  nothing.  Will  you  enter  into 
this  compact  with  me  ?  " 

The  Doctor  looked  doubtfully  at  the  Professor  to 
see  whether  the  pride  of  his  friend  would  stoop  to  such 
a  condition.  Contrary  to  his  expectation,  the  coun- 


60  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

tenance  of  the  Scholar  was  radiant  with  joy,  and  he 
answered : 

"You have  mistaken  us  on  one  point.  We  do  not 
desire  to  take  away  the  concealed  manuscript  from 
your  possession,  but  we  have  only  come  to  persuade 
you  to  make  the  experiment.  It  seems  very  likely  to 
us,  that  we,  in  a  strange  house,  not  knowing  the  rooms, 
and  unused  to  this  kind  of  research,  shall  find  nothing. 
If,  however,  we  do  not  shun  the  ludicrous  position  in 
which  you  would  place  us,  and  accept  your  offer,  we 
do  it  only  in  the  hope  that,  during  our  stay  here,  we 
shall  succeed  in  awakening  in  you  a  greater  interest  in 
the  possible  discovery." 

The  Proprietor  shook  his  head,  and  shrugged  his 
shoulders.  "The  only  interest  I  take  in  the  matter  is 
that  it  should  be  forgotten  as  soon  as  possible.  You 
may  do  what  you  consider  your  duty.  My  business  pre- 
vents me  from  accompanying  you.  I  shall  consign 
you  to  the  care  of  my  daughter." 

He  opened  the  door  of  the  adjoining  room  and 
called,  "Use!" 

"Here,  father,"  answered  a  rich-toned  voice. 

The  Proprietor  went  into  the  next  room.  "Come 
here,  Use,  I  have  a  special  commission  for  you  to-day. 
There  are  two  strange  gentlemen  from  one  of  the  Uni- 
versities here.  They  are  looking  for  a  book  which  is 
supposed  to  have  been  concealed  in  our  house  ages 
ago.  Conduct  them  through  the  house  and  open  all 
the  rooms  to  them." 

"But,  father —     "  interposed  the  daughter. 

"It  matters  not,"  continued  the  Proprietor,  "it 
must  be."  He  approached  closer  to  her  and  spoke  in 
a  low  tone :  "They  are  two  scholars  and  are  crack- 
brained" — he  pointed  to  his  head.  "What  they 


A    FOOL'S    ERRAND.  6l 

imagine  is  madness,  and  I  only  give  in  to  them  in 
order  to  have  peace  in  the  future.  Be  cautious,  Use  ; 
I  do  not  know  the  people.  I  must  go  to  the  farm,  but 
will  tell  the  Inspector  to  remain  near  the  house.  They 
appear  to  me  two  honest  fools,  but  the  devil .  may 
trust." 

"  I  have  no  fear,  father,"  answered  the  daughter  ; 
"the  house  is  full  of  people  ;  we  shall  be  able  to  man- 
age." 

"  Take  care  that  none  of  the  servants  are  about, 
whilst  the  strangers  are  sounding  the  walls  and 
measuring.  For  the  rest,  they  do  not  look  to  me  as 
if  they  would  find  much,  even  though  all  the  walls 
were  built  up  with  books.  But  you  must  not  allow 
them  to  break  through  or  injure  the  walls." 

"I  understand,  father,"  said  the  daughter.  "Do 
they  remain  to  dinner  ?  " 

"Yes,  your  duty  will  continue  till  evening.  The 
housekeeper  can  superintend  the  dairy  for  you." 

The  friends  heard  fragments  of  the  conversation 
through  the  door  ;  after  the  first  words  of  instruction 
they  went  quickly  to  the  window,  and  talked  aloud 
about  the  great  accumulation  of  straw  on  the  top  of  the 
barn,  which,  according  to  the  Doctor,  was  a  stork's 
nest,  while  the  Professor  maintained  that  storks  did 
not  build  their  nests  so  high.  But  intermingled  with 
this  talk  the  Professor  said  in  a  low  tone  :  "  It  is  very 
uncomfortable  for  us  to  continue  in  this  humiliating 
position.  But  we  can  only  convince  the  proprietor 
by  our  perseverance." 

" Perhaps  we  may  yet  discover  something,"  said 
the  Doctor.  "  I  have  some  experience  in  masonry. 
As  a  boy  I  found  opportunity  while  our  house  was 
building,  to  obtain  a  fair  degree  of  knowledge  in  statics 


62  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

and  climbing  rafters.  It  is  well  that  the  tyrant  leaves 
us  alone.  Do  you  entertain  the  daughter,  I  will  mean- 
while sound  the  walls." 

Whoever  has  followed  an  uncertain  scent  knows 
full  well  how  difficult  on  a  near  approach  are  things 
that  at  a  distance  appeared  eas}7.  While  at  first  the 
deceitful  Goddess  of  Hope  paints  all  favorable  chances 
in  bright  colors,  the  very  work  of  searching  raises  all 
possible  doubts.  The  alluring  picture  fades,  de- 
spondency and  weariness  cast  their  shadows  across  it ; 
and  what  in  the  beginning  was  a  happy  venture  be- 
comes at  last  a  mere  effort  of  perseverance. 

CHAPTER  IV. 
THE    OLD    HOUSE. 

THE  Proprietor  re-entered  with  his  whip  in  his 
hand  and  behind  him  the  stately  maiden  of  the  church- 
yard. "This  is  my  daughter  Use;  she  will  repre- 
sent me." 

The  friends  bowed.  It  was  the  same  beautiful 
countenance ;  but  instead  of  exalted  emotion,  there 
now  rested  on  her  features  a  business-like  dignity. 
She  greeted  the  gentlemen  calmly,  and  invited  them 
to  breakfast  in  the  next  room.  She  expressed  herself 
simply,  but  again  the  friends  listened  with  admiration 
to  the  deep  tones  of  her  melodious  voice. 

"Before  you  begin  your  search  you  must  sit  down 
at  my  table  ;  it  is  our  custom,"  said  the  host,  in  better 
humor — on  him  also  the  presence  of  the  daughter  had 
a  softening  influence.  "  We  meet  again  at  noon."  So 
saying,  he  departed. 

The  friends  followed  into  the  next  room — a  large 
dining- apartment.  There  were  chairs  along  the  wall ; 


THE    OLD    HOUSE.  63 

in  the  middle  a  long  table,  at  the  upper  end  of  which 
three  covers  were  laid.  The  young  girl  seated  herself 
between  the  gentlemen  and  offered  them  a  cold  re- 
past. "When  I  saw  you  in  the  churchyard,  I  thought 
that  you  would  visit  my  father  ;  the  table  has  been  set 
for  you  for  some  time."  The  friends  ate  a  little,  and 
thanked  her  still  more. 

"I  regret  that  our  coming  should  make  such  a  de- 
mand on  your  time,"  said  the  Professor,  gravely. 

"  My  task  is  easy,"  answered  the  young  girl.  "  I 
fear  that  yours  will  give  you  more  trouble.  There  are 
many  sitting-rooms  in  the  house  as  well  as  bedrooms 
and  attics." 

"I  have  already  told  your  father,"  answered  the 
Professor,  laughing,  "  that  it  is  not  our  intention  to 
examine  the  building  like  masons.  Pray  look  upon  us 
as  curious  people  who  only  wish  to  see  this  remark- 
able house,  in  so  far  as  it  would  otherwise  be  opened 
to  guests." 

"The  house  may  be  considered  remarkable  by 
strangers,"  said  Use;  "we  like  it  because  it  is  warm 
and  roomy ;  and  when  my  father  had  been  some  years 
in  possession  of  the  estate,  and  had  the  means  to  do 
so,  he  had  the  house  comfortably  arranged  to  please 
my  deceased  mother.  We  require  plenty  of  room,  as 
I  have  six  younger  brothers  and  sisters,  and  it  is  a 
large  estate.  The  overseers  of  the  farm  eat  with  us  ; 
then  there  are  the  tutor  and  Mamselle,  and  in  the 
servants'  hall  there  are  also  twenty  people." 

The  Doctor  regarded  his  neighbor  with  a  look  of 
disappointment.  What  had  become  of  the  Sibyl  ? 
She  spoke  sensibly  and  very  much  like  a  citizen ;  with 
her  something  might  be  accomplished. 

"As  we  are  searching  for  hollow  spaces,"  he  began 


64  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

slyly,  "  we  would  rather  trust  to  your  guidance,  if  you 
would  tell  us  whether  there  are  any  places  in  the  wall, 
or  on  the  ground,  or  anywhere  here  in  the  house, 
that  you  know  of,  which  could  be  discovered  by 
knocking?" 

"O,  there  are  plenty  of  such  places!"  answered 
Use.  If  one  knocks  upon  the  wall  at  the  back  of  the 
small  cupboard  in  my  room,  it  is  evident  there  is  an 
empty  space  behind  ;  then  there  is  the  flagstone  under 
the  stairs,  and  many  flags  in  the  kitchen,  and  still 
more  in  other  parts  of  the  house,  regarding  which 
every  one  has  his  conjectures." 

The  Doctor  had  taken  out  his  memorandum-book 
and  noted  the  suspicious  places. 

The  inspection  of  the  house  began.  It  was  a  fine 
old  building;  the  walls  of  the  lower  story  were  so  thick 
that  the  Doctor  with  extended  arms  could  not  span 
the  depths  of  the  window-niches.  He  eagerly  under- 
took the  sounding,  and  began  measuring  the  walls. 
The  cellars  were  partly  hewn  in  the  rock.  In  some 
places  the  rough  stone  still  projected,  and  one  could 
perceive  where  the  wall  rested  on  the  rock.  There 
were  vast  vaults,  the  small  windows  in  the  top  of 
which  were  protected  by  strong  iron  bars, — in  ancient 
times  a  secure  refuge  against  the  shot  and  assault  of 
the  enemy.  All  was  dry  and  hollow,  for  the  house 
was  built,  as  the  Doctor  had  already  before  so  acutely 
suggested  in  speaking  of  old  buildings,  with  outer  and 
inner  walls,  and  filled  between  with  rubbish  and  broken 
stones.  Naturally,  therefore,  the  walls  in  many  places 
sounded  as  hollow  as  a  gourd.  The  Doctor  knocked, 
and  diligently  took  note.  The  knuckles  of  his  hand 
became  white  and  swelled,  and  the  number  of  good 
places  discouraged  him. 


THE    OLD    HOUSE.  65 

From  the  cellar  they  went  to  the  ground-floor-  In 
the  kitchen,  kettles  and  pots  were  steaming,  and  the 
women  who  were  working  looked  with  curiosity  at  the 
demeanor  of  the  strangers,  for  the  Doctor  kept  stamp- 
ing with  his  heel  on  the  stone  floor,  and  with  his  hands 
sounded  the  blackened  side-wall  of  the  hearth.  Behind 
were  store-rooms  and  the  visitors'  rooms.  In  one  of 
these  they  found  a  woman  in  mourning,  occupied  in 
arranging  the  beds.  It  was  the  mother  from  the  church- 
yard. She  approached  the  strangers,  and  thanked 
them  for  having  helped  to  pay  the  last  honors  to  her 
child.  The  friends  spoke  kindly  to  her ;  she  wiped  her 
eyes  with  her  apron  and  returned  to  her  work. 

"I  begged  her  to  remain  at  home  to-day,"  said 
Use,  "but  she  would  not.  It  would,  she  thought,  be 
good  for  her  to  have  something  to  do,  and  we  would 
need  her  help  as  you  were  coming  to  us." 

It  pleased  our  scholars  to  see  that  by  the  female 
members  of  the  house,  at  least,  they  were  considered 
as  guests  entitled  to  remain. 

They  went  over  the  other  side  of  the  ground-floor, 
and  once  more  examined  the  unpretentious  room  in 
which  they  had  been  first  received.  Behind  it  lay  the 
private  room  of  the  proprietor,  a  small  unadorned 
chamber,  in  which  were  a  closet  with  shooting  and 
riding  gear,  and  a  shelf  for  title-deeds  and  books  ;  over 
the  bed  hung  a  sword  and  pistols,  and  on  the  writing- 
table  there  was  a  small  model  of  a  machine,  and  sam- 
ples of  corn  and  seeds  in  small  bags ;  against  the  wall 
stood,  in  military  array,  gigantic  water-boots,  Russian 
leather  boots,  and  top-boots  for  riding  ;  and  in  the  fur- 
ther corner  half-boots  of  calf  skin.  In  the  next  room 
they  heard  a  man's  voice,  and  the  answers  of  children 
in  regular  succession. 


66  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

"That  is  the  school-room,"  said  Use,  smiling.  As 
the  door  opened,  both  solo  and  chorus  stopped.  The 
teacher,  a  student  with  an  intelligent  face,  rose  to  re- 
turn the  greeting  of  the  newcomers.  The  children 
stared  with  astonishment  at  the  unexpected  interrup- 
tion. Three  boys  and  three  girls  sat  at  two  tables,  a 
vigorous,  fair-haired  race.  "These  are  Clara,  Luise, 
Rickchen,  Hans,  Ernest,  and  Franz." 

Clara,  a  girl  of  fourteen,  almost  grown  up,  and  a 
youthful  picture  of  her  sister,  rose  with  a  courtesy. 
Hans,  a  sturdy  boy,  twelve  years  old,  made  an  inef- 
fectual attempt  at  a  bow.  The  others  remained  stand- 
ing straight,  staring  fixedly  at  the  strangers,  and  then, 
as  if  having  sufficiently  performed  a  tiresome  duty, 
dropped  down  into  their  places.  Only  little  Franz, 
a  rosy-cheeked,  curly-headed  urchin,  seven  years  old, 
remained  sitting  grimly  over  his  troublesome  task,  and 
made  use  of  the  interruption  quickly  to  find  in  his  book 
something  for  his  next  answer.  Use  stroked  his  hair, 
and  asked  the  tutor,  "How  is  he  doing  to-day?  " 

"He  has  studied  his  lesson." 

"It  is  too  hard,"  cried  Franz,  bitterly. 

The  Professor  begged  the  tutor  not  to  disturb  him- 
self, and  the  journey  recommenced  through  the  bed- 
room of  the  boys,  and  of  the  tutor,  and  again  through 
the  store-rooms,  the  ironing  and  wardrobe  rooms.  The 
Doctor  had  long  since  put  his  memorandum-book  in 
his  pocket. 

They  returned  to  the  main  hall,  where  Use  pointed 
out  the  stone  slab  on  the  step.  Once  more  the  Doctor 
knelt  down,  tried  it,  and  said  despondingly,  "Hollow 
again."  Use  ascended  the  staircase. 

"Up  here  the  girls  and  I  live." 

"Here,  then,  our  curiosity  comes   to  an  end,"  re- 


THE    OLD    HOUSE.  67 

plied  the  Professor,  considerately  ;  "you  see  even  my 
friend  abandons  the  search." 

"But  there  is  a  fine  view  above;  this,  at  least,  you 
must  see, "  said  their  guide.  She  opened  a  door.  "This 
is  my  room."  The  friends  stood  on  the  threshold. 
"Come  in,"  said  Use,  unembarrassed.  "From  this 
window  you  see  the  road  by  which  you  came  to  us." 

With  hesitation  the  men  approached.  This  also 
was  an  unpretentious  room  ;  there  was  not  even  a  sofa 
in  it.  The  walls  were  painted  blue ;  at  the  window  was 
a  work-table  and  some  flowers  ;  in  a  corner  was  the 
bed  concealed  by  white  curtains. 

The  friends  walked  immediately  to  the  window,  and 
looking  out  saw  the  little  churchyard  and  the  tops  of 
the  oaks,  the  small  town  in  the  valley,  and  the  rows  of 
trees  behind,  which  ran  in  curved  lines  up  the  height 
where  the  view  terminated.  The  Professor  fixed  his 
eyes  on  the  old  wooden  church.  How  much  in  a  few 
hours  had  his  tone  of  mind  altered  !  Glad  expectation 
was  followed  by  the  seeming  frustration  of  their  hopes, 
and  yet  this  disappointment  was  succeeded  by  a  pleas- 
ing repose. 

"That  is  our  road  into  the  outer  world,"  indicated 
Use  ;  "we  often  look  in  that  direction  when  father  has 
been  on  a  journey  and  we  are  expecting  him,  or  when 
we  hope  for  some  good  news  by  the  postman.  And 
when  frequently  our  brother  Franz  tells  how  he  will  go 
into  the  world  when  a  man,  away  from  his  father  and 
family,  he  thinks  that  the  roads  there  will  always  look 
like  our  footpath  bordered  with  its  willow-trees." 

"Is  Franz  the  pet?"  asked  the  Professor. 

"  He  is  my  baby-brother  ;  we  lost  our  good  mother 
while  he  was  still  a  mere  infant.  The  poor  child  never 
knew  his  mother ;  and  once  when  he  dreamt  of  her, 


68  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

the  other  children  maintained  that  he  had  changed  her 
into  me,  for  she.  wore  my  dress  and  my  straw  hat. 
This  is  the  cupboard  in  the  wall,"  she  said,  sorrowfully, 
pointing  to  a  wooden  door.  The  friends  followed  in 
silence,  without  looking  at  the  cupboard.  She  stopped 
before  the  adjoining  room,  and  opened  the  door : 
"This  was  my  mother's  room,  it  is  unaltered,  just  as 
she  left  it ;  our  father  generally  spends  some  time  here 
on  Sundays." 

"We  cannot  allow  you  to  lead  us  any  further," 
said  the  Professor.  "  I  cannot  tell  you  how  painful  I 
feel  our  position  in  regard  to  you  to  be.  Forgive  us 
this  indelicate  intrusion  upon  your  privacy." 

"  If  you  do  not  wish  to  see  the  house  further," 
answered  Use,  with  a  look  of  gratitude,  "  I  will  gladly 
take  you  into  our  garden,  and  through  the  farmyard. 
Father  will  not  be  pleased  if  I  withhold  anything  from 
you." 

A  back  door  led  from  the  hall  into  the  garden ;  the 
flower-beds  were  edged  with  box,  and  filled  with  sum- 
mer flowers — the  old  indigenous  plants  of  gardens. 
Vines  climbed  up  the  house,  as  far  as  the  windows  of 
the  upper  story,  and  the  green  grapes  everywhere 
peeped  through  the  bright  foliage.  A  hedge  of  quick- 
set separated  the  flower-beds  from  the  kitchen-garden, 
where,  besides  vegetables,  there  were  hops  climbing 
up  high  poles.  Further  on,  a  large  orchard,  with  a 
fine  lawn,  sloped  down  into  the  valley.  There  was 
nothing  remarkable  to  be  seen  here  ;  the  flower-beds 
were  in  straight  lines  ;  the  fruit  trees  stood  in  rows  ; 
the  venerable  box  and  hedge  were  stiffly  trimmed,  and 
without  gaps.  The  friends  looked  back  constantly 
over  beds  and  flowers  to  the  house,  and  admired  the 
brown  walls  showing  through  the  soft  foliage  of  the 


THE    OLD    HOUSE.  69 

vine,  as  well  as  the  stonework  of  the  windows  and 
gables. 

"  In  the  time  of  our  forefathers  it  was  a  sovereigns' 
residence,"  explained  Use,  "and  they  used  to  come 
here  every  year  to  hunt.  But  now  nothing  but  the 
dark  wood  back  there  belongs  to  him.  In  it  is  a  shoot- 
ing-box, where  the  head-forester  resides.  Our  Sover- 
eign seldom  comes  into  the  district.  It  is  a  long  time 
since  we  have  seen  our  dear  prince,  and  we  live  like 
poor  orphans." 

"  Is  he  considered  a  good  ruler  ?  "  asked  the  Pro- 
fessor. 

"We  do  not  know  much  about  him  ;  but  we  believe 
that  he  is  good.  Many  years  ago,  when  I  was  yet  a 
child,  he  once  breakfasted  at  our  house,  because  there 
was  no  convenient  place  in  Rossau.  Then  I  was  sur- 
prised that  he  wore  no  red  mantle  ;  and  he  patted  me 
on  the  head,  and  gave  me  the  good  advice  to  grow, 
which  I  have  honestly  followed.  It  is  said  that  he  will 
come  again  this  year  to  hunt.  If  he  stops  with  us 
again,  the  old  house  must  put  on  its  best  attire,  and 
there  will  be  hot  cheeks  in  the  kitchen." 

While  they  were  walking  peaceably  among  the 
fruit  trees,  a  clear-toned  bell  sounded  from  the  farm- 
yard. "That  is  the  call  to  dinner,"  said  Use.  "  I  will 
take  you  to  your  room  ;  the  maid  will  show  you  to  the 
dining-room." 

The  friends  found  their  valises  in  the  visitors' 
room,  and  were  shortly  after  summoned  by  a  gentle 
knock  at  the  door,  and  conducted  into  the  dining- 
room.  There  the  proprietor  was  awaiting  them,  to- 
gether with  half-  a-dozen  sun-burnt  officials  of  the  farm, 
the  Mamselle,  the  tutor,  and  the  children.  When  they 
entered,  the  Proprietor  spoke  to  his  daughter  in  a 


70  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

window-niche  ;  the  daughter  probably  gave  a  favor- 
able report  of  them,  for  he  came  toward  them  with  un 
clouded  countenance,  and  said  in  his  abrupt  way,  "I 
hope  you  will  put  up  with  our  fare."  He  then  intro- 
duced the  strangers  to  those  present,  calling  them  by 
their  names,  and  adding,  "two  gentlemen  from  the 
University."  Every  one  stood  behind  his  chair,  placed 
according  to  his  station  and  age.  The  Proprietor  took 
the  head  of  the  table,  next  him  Use  ;  on  the  other  side 
the  Professor  and  Doctor  ;  then  on  both  sides  the  farm 
officials,  after  them,  the  Mamselle  and  the  girls,  the 
tutor  and  the  boys.  Little  Franz  approached  his  seat 
at  the  lower  end  of  the  table,  folded  his  hands  and 
monotonously  pronounced  a  short  grace.  Then  all 
the  chairs  were  drawn  forward  at  the  same  moment, 
and  two  maids  in  peasant  costume  brought  in  the 
dishes.  It  was  a  simple  meal ;  a  bottle  of  wine  was 
placed  between  the  strangers;  the  host,  his  family, 
and  the  dependants  drank  a  dark,  golden  beer. 

Silently  and  zealously  each  one  fell  to  ;  only  at  the 
upper  end  of  the  table  was  there  any  conversation. 
The  friends  expressed  to  the  Proprietor  the  pleasure 
that  the  house  and  its  surroundings  afforded  them  ; 
and  the  host  laughed  ironically  when  the  Doctor  praised 
the  thick  walls  of  the  structure.  Then  the  talk  rambled 
on  to  the  surrounding  country,  and  the  dialect  and 
character  of  the  peasantry. 

"It  has  struck  me  again  to-day,"  said  the  Professor, 
"with  what  suspicion  the  peasants  regard  us  city  folks. 
They  regard  our  language,  manners,  and  habits  as 
those  of  another  race  ;  and  when  I  see  what  the  agri- 
cultural laborer  has  in  common  with  the  so-called  edu- 
cated classes,  I  feel  painfully  that  it  is  much  too  little." 

"And  whose  fault  is  it,"  retorted  the  host,  "but 


THE    OLD    HOUSE.  71 

that  of  the  educated  classes  ?  Do  not  take  it  amiss,  if 
I  tell  you,  as  a  simple  man,  that  this  high  cultivation 
pleases  me  as  little  as  the  ignorance  and  stubbornness 
which  surprises  you  in  our  country  people.  You  your- 
selves, for  example,  make  a  long  journey,  in  order  to 
find  an  old  forgotten  manuscript  which  was  written  by 
an  educated  man  in  a  nation  that  has  passed  away. 
But  I  ask  what  have  millions  of  men,  who  speak  the 
same  language  as  you,  are  of  the  same  race,  and  live 
near  you,  what  have  they  gained  by  all  the  learning 
that  you  have  acquired  for  yourselves  and  small  num- 
bers of  wealthy  people  of  leisure  ?  When  you  speak 
to  my  laborers,  they  do  not  understand  you.  If  you 
wished  to  speak  to  them  of  your  learning,  my  farm 
hands  would  stand  before  you  like  savages.  Is  that  a 
sound  state  of  affairs  ?  I  tell  you,  so  long  as  this  lasts, 
we  are  not  a  well-conditioned  people." 

"If  your  words  are  meant  as  a  reproach  to  my  vo- 
cation," answered  the  Professor,  "you  are  unjust;  for 
we  are  now  actively  employed  in  making  the  discov- 
eries of  the  learned  accessible  to  the  people.  That 
much  more  should  be  done  in  this  direction,  I  do  not 
deny.  But  at  all  periods  serious  scientific  investiga- 
tions, even  when  only  intelligible  to  a  very  small  cir- 
cle, have  exercised  an  invisible  influence  on  the  souls 
and  lives  of  the  people  in  general.  These  scientific 
investigations  develop  the  language,  give  certain  ten- 
dencies to  thought,  gradually  evolve  customs,  ethics, 
and  laws,  according  to  the  needs  of  every  age.  Not 
only  practical  inventions  and  increasing  wealth  are 
facilitated  by  them  ;  but  also,  what  surely  will  not  seem 
less  important  to  you,  the  ideas  of  man  about  his  own 
life,  the  manner  in  which  he  performs  his  duty  toward 
others,  the  feeling  with  which  he  regards  truth  and 


72  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

falsehood, — for  all  this  each  one  of  us  is  indebted  to 
the  erudition  of  the  nation,  no  matter  how  little  in- 
terest he  may  take  in  the  various  investigations.  And 
let  me  use  an  old  simile.  Science  is  like  a  great  fire 
that  must  be  incessantly  maintained  in  a  nation,  be- 
cause flint  and  steel  are  unknown  to  them.  I  am  one 
of  those  whose  duty  it  is  constantly  to  throw  fresh  logs 
into  the  burning  mass.  It  is  the  task  of  others  to  carry 
the  holy  flame  throughout  the  land,  to  the  villages  and 
cottages.  Every  one  whose  object  it  is  to  diffuse  that 
light,  has  his  rights,  and  no  one  should  think  meanly 
of  another." 

"There  is  some  truth  in  that,"  said  the  host  thought- 
fully. 

"If  the  great  fire  does  not  burn,"  continued  the 
Professor,  "the  single  flames  could  not  be  spread. 
And,  believe  me,  what  most  strengthens  and  elevates 
an  honorable  man  of  learning  in  the  most  difficult  in- 
vestigations, is  the  fact,  confirmed  by  long  experience, 
that  his  labors  will  in  the  end  conduce  to  the  benefit 
of  mankind.  They  do  not  always  help  to  invent  new 
machines,  nor  discover  new  plants  for  cultivation,  but 
they  are  nevertheless  effective  for  all,  when  they  teach 
what  is  true  and  untrue,  beautiful  and  ugly,  good  and 
bad.  In  this  sense  they  make  millions  freer,  and 
therefore  better." 

"I  see  at  least  by  your  words,"  said  the  host,  "that 
you  hold  your  vocation  in  high  esteem ;  and  I  like  that, 
for  it  is  the  characteristic  of  an  honest  man." 

This  conversation  produced  a  pleasant  frame  of 
mind  in  both  men.  The  Inspector  rose,  and  in  a 
moment  all  the  chairs  of  the  farm  dignitaries  were 
pushed  back,  and  the  children  and  most  of  the  party 
left  the  room.  Only  the  host,  Use,  and  the  guests  sat 


THE    OLD    HOUSE.  73 

together  for  a  few  moments  longer  in  pleasant  conver- 
sation. Then  they  went  into  the  next  room,  where 
coffee  was  prepared.  Use  poured  it  out,  while  the 
Proprietor  from  his  seat  scrutinized  the  unexpected 
guests. 

The  Professor  set  the  empty  cup  down  and  began : 
"Our  task  here  is  ended,  and  we  have  to  thank  you 
for  a  hospitable  reception.  But  I  do  not  like  to  part 
without  once  more  reminding  you — " 

"Why  should  you  go  ?  "  interrupted  the  Proprietor. 
"You  have  had  a  long  journey  to-day ;  you  will  not  find 
either  in  the  town  or  in  the  neighboring  villages  any  re- 
spectable lodging,  and,  in  the  pressure  of  the  harvest, 
perhaps  not  even  a  conveyance.  Pray  be  contented 
to  pass  the  night  here  ;  we.  have,  besides,  to  resume 
our  conversation  of  this  morning,"  he  added,  good- 
humoredly,  "and  I  am  anxious  to  come  to  a  good  un- 
derstanding before  we  part.  Will  you  accompany  me 
for  a  while  into  the  field,  where  my  presence  is  re- 
quired ?  When  I  ride  to  the  distant  part  of  the  farm, 
Use  will  take  my  place.  In  the  evening  we  will  have 
a  little  sensible  talk  together." 

The  friends  readily  agreed  to  this  proposal.  The 
three  men  walked  through  the  field  engaged  in  genial 
conversation.  The  Professor  was  interested  to  see  the 
large  ears  of  a  new  variety  of  barley,  which  grew  very 
densely,  and  the  Proprietor  spoke  thoughtfully  of  this 
new  species  of  corn.  They  stopped  where  the  laborers 
were  busy.  Then  the  overseer  handed  his  report  to 
the  Proprietor,  after  which  they  crossed  the  stubble  to 
the  sheaves.  The  Proprietor  glanced  quickly  over  the 
gathered  shocks,  the  industrious  people,  and  the  pa- 
tient horses  in  the  harvest  wagons  ;  the  friends  observed 
with  interest  the  intercourse  between  the  master  of 


74  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

the  property  and  his  subordinates  and  laborers  ;  the 
short  orders  and  pertinent  answers  ;  the  zeal  and  cheer- 
ful aspect  of  the  working-people  when  they  announced 
the  number  of  the  sheaves,  all  well-behaved,  indus- 
trious, and  acting  in  unison.  They  returned  with  a 
feeling  of  respect  for  the  man  who  ruled  his  little  do- 
main so  firmly.  On  their  way  back  they  stopped  to 
look  at  the  foals  that  were  gamboling  about  in  a 
meadow  behind  the  barns,  and  when  the  Doctor 
praised,  above  all,  two  galloping  browns,  it  appeared 
that  he  had  admired  the  best  horses,  and  the  Pro- 
prietor smiled  upon  him  benignantly.  At  the  entrance 
to  the  farmyard  a  groom  brought  a  riding-horse,  a 
powerful  black,  with  strong  limbs  and  broad  chest : 
the  Doctor  stroked  the  horse's  neck,  and  the  Pro- 
prietor examined  the  straps.  "I  am  a  heavy  rider," 
he  said,  "and  need  a  strong  animal."  He  swung 
himself  heavily  into  the  saddle,  and,  taking  off  his  cap, 
said,  "We  meet  again  in  the  evening. "  And  stately 
did  horse  and  rider  look,  as  they  trotted  along  the  road 
through  the  field. 

"The  young  lady  awaits  you,"  said  the  groom; 
"I  am  to  escort  you  to  her." 

"Have  we  made  any  progress  or  not?"  asked  the 
Doctor,  laughing,  and  taking  hold  of  his  friend's  arm. 

"A  struggle  has  begun,"  answered  the  friend  se- 
riously, "  and  who  can  say  what  will  be  the  result?  " 

Use  was  sitting  in  an  arbor  of  honeysuckle  in  the 
garden,  surrounded  by  the  children.  It  was  a  pleasant 
sight  to  see  the  young  fair-haired  family  together. 
The  girls  sat  by  their  sister ;  the  boys  ran  around  the 
arbor  playing,  with  their  afternoon  luncheon  in  their 
hands.  Seven  fresh,  well-formed  faces,  as  like  each 
other  as  blossoms  on  the  same  tree,  yet  each  develop- 


THE    OLD    HOUSE.  75 

ing  itself  at  a  different  period  of  life,  from  Franz, 
whose  round  child's  head  resembled  a  blooming  bud, 
to  the  beautiful,  full-blown  face  and  figure  that  sat  in 
the  centre,  brightly  lighted  up  by  the  glancing  rays  of 
the  sun.  Again  were  the  hearts  of  the  friends  thrilled 
by  the  appearance  of  the  girl  and  the  sound  of  her 
voice,  as  she  tenderly  scolded  little  Franz  because  he 
had  knocked  the  bread  and  butter  out  of  his  brother's 
hands.  Again  did  the  children  stare  suspiciously  at 
the  strangers,  but  the  Doctor  ignored  the  ceremonial 
of  first  acquaintance  by  taking  Franz  by  the  legs  and 
placing  him  on  his  shoulders,  seating  himself  with  his 
rider  in  the  arbor.  The  little  lad  sat  for  a  few  moments 
on  his  elevation  quite  surprised,  and  the  children 
laughed  aloud  at  his  round  eyes  looking  so  frightened 
at  the  stranger's  head  between  his  little  legs.  But  the 
laughter  of  the  others  gave  him  courage,  and  he  began 
to  pummel  lustily  with  his  feet,  and  to  brandish  his 
bread  triumphantly  round  the  locks  of  the  stranger. 
Thus  the  acquaintance  was  made;  a  few  minutes  later, 
the  Doctor  went  with  the  children  through  the  garden, 
allowing  himself  to  be  chased,  and  trying  to  catch  the 
shouting  crew  between  the  flower-beds. 

"  If  you  like,  we  will  go  where  you  can  obtain  the 
best  view  of  our  house,"  said  Use,  to  the  Professor. 

Surrounded  by  the  children  they  walked  along  the 
road  that  led  to  the  church.  A  winding  footpath  ran 
down  to  the  bottom,  where  a  strip  of  meadow  bordered 
the  bubbling  brook.  From  this  deep  dell  they  ascended 
some  hundred  steps.  Before  them  rose  from  the  copse 
a  huge  rock  ;  they  passed  round  it  and  stood  by  a  stone 
grotto.  The  rock  formed  the  portal  and  walls  of  a 
cave  which  penetrated  about  ten  paces  into  the  hill. 
The  ground  was  level,  covered  with  white  sand  ;  bram- 


76  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

ble-bushes  and  wild  roses  hung  down  over  the  en- 
trance ;  in  the  midst  of  them  grew  a  large  bush  of 
willow-rose;  it  hung  with  its  thick  blossoms  like  a 
plume  of  red  feathers  over  the  rocky  arch  of  the  grotto. 
The  trace  of  an  old  wall  on  the  side  showed  that  the 
cave  had  once  been  a  refuge  either  for  the  oppressed 
or  the  lawless ;  at  the  entrance  lay  a  stone,  the  upper 
surface  of  which  had  been  smoothed  for  a  seat ;  in  the 
obscure  light  of  the  background  stood  a  stone  bench. 

"There  is  our  house,"  said  Use,  pointing  over  the 
valley  to  the  height  where  the  gables  rose  behind  the 
fruit  trees  of  the  garden.  "It  is  so  near  that  a  loud 
call  would  be  heard  here." 

The  friends  looked  from  the  twilight  of  the  cave 
into  the  bright  light  of  day,  on  the  stone  house  and  the 
trees  which  stood  below  it. 

"All  is  quiet  in  the  wood,"  continued  Use;  "even 
the  voice  of  the  birds  has  ceased ;  they  have  left  their 
nests  for  the  harvest  fields,  where  they  congregate  in 
flocks." 

"I  hear  a  gentle  murmur,  like  the  gurgling  of 
water,"  said  the  Professor. 

"A  stream  runs  over  the  stones  below,"  explained 
Use.  "Now  it  is  scanty,  but  in  the  spring  much  water 
collects  from  the  hills.  Then  the  sound  of  the  rushing 
water  becomes  loud,  and  the  brook  courses  wildly  over 
the  stones ;  it  covers  the  meadows  below,  fills  the 
whole  valley,  and  rises  up  to  the  copse-wood.  But  in 
warm  weather  this  is  a  pleasant  resting-place  for  us 
all.  When  my  father  bought  the  estate  the  cave  was 
overgrown,  the  entrance  choked  up  with  stones  and 
earth,  and  it  was  the  abode  of  owls.  He  had  it  opened 
and  cleared." 

The  Professor  examined  the  cave  with  curiosity, 


THE    OLD    HOUSE.  77 

and  struck  the  red  rock  with  his  cane.  Use  standing 
apart  watched  him  with  troubled  look.  "Now  he  is 
beginning  his  search,"  she  thought. 

"It  is  all  old  stone,"  she  exclaimed. 

The  Doctor  had  been  clambering  outside  the  cave 
with  the  children.  He  now  freed  himself  from  Hans, 
who  had  just  confided  to  him  that  among  the  thick 
alder  bushes  there  was  the  empty  nest  of  a  mountain 
titmouse. 

"This  must  be  a  wonderful  place  for  the  legends 
of  the  country,"  he  exclaimed,  with  delight;  "there 
cannot  be  a  more  charming  home  for  the  spirits  of  the 
valley." 

"People  talk  absurd  stuff  about  it,"  rejoined  Use, 
with  a  tone  of  disapprobation.  "They  say  that  little 
dwarfs  dwell  here,  and  that  their  footsteps  can  be  per- 
ceived in  the  sand,  yet  the  sand  was  first  brought  here 
by  my  father.  Nevertheless,  the  people  are  frightened, 
and  when  evening  comes  the  women  and  children  of 
the  laborers  do  not  like  to  pass  it.  But  they  conceal 
this  from  us,  as  my  father  cannot  bear  superstition." 

"The  dwarfs  are  evidently  not  in  favor  with  you," 
answered  the  Doctor. 

"As  there  are  none,  we  ought  not  to  believe  in 
them,"  replied  Use,  eagerly.  "Men  ought  to  believe 
what  the  Bible  teaches  ;  not  in  wild  beings  that,  as 
they  say  in  the  village,  fly  through  the  wood  in  the 
night.  Lately  an  old  woman  was  ill  in  a  neighboring 
village,  no  one  would  bring  her  any  food,  and  they  dis- 
gracefully rejoiced  in  her  sickness  because  they  thought 
the  poor  woman  could  change  herself  into  a  black  cat 
and  injure  the  cattle.  When  we  first  heard  of  it,  the 
woman  was  in  danger  of  dying  of  starvation.  This  idle 
talk  is  therefore  wicked." 


7  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

The  Doctor  had  meanwhile  noted  down  the  dwarfs 
in  his  note-book ;  but  he  looked  dissatisfied  at  Use, 
who,  speaking  from  the  dusk  in  the  rear  of  the  cave, 
resembled  a  legendary  figure. 

"She  does  not  object  to  sly  Jacob,  who  deceived 
his  blind  father  by  putting  kid  skins  on  his  arms  ;  but 
our  fairy-lore  is  distasteful  to  her." 

He  put  his  note-book  up  again  and  went  with  Hans 
after  the  titmouse. 

The  Professor  had,  with  amusement,  observed  the 
secret  vexation  of  his  friend  ;  but  Use  turned  to  him, 
saying : 

"I  am  surprised  that  your  friend  takes  note  of  such 
stories ;  it  is  not  right,  such  things  should  be  for- 
gotten." 

"You  know  that  he  himself  does  not  believe  in 
them,"  answered  the  Professor,  in  mitigation.  "What 
he  searches  for  are  only  the  traditions  of  the  people. 
For  these  legends  originated  in  a  time  when  our  whole 
nation  believed  in  these  spirits,  as  they  do  now  the 
teachings  of  the  Bible.  He  collects  these  reminiscen- 
ces in  order  to  ascertain  what  was  the  faith  and  poetry 
of  our  ancestors." 

The  maiden  was  silent.    Then  after  a  time  she  said  : 

"This  also,  then,  is  connected  with  your  labors." 

"It  is,"  replied  the  Professor. 

"It  is  good  to  listen  to  you,"  continued  Use,  "for 
your  mode  of  speech  is  different  from  ours.  Formerly 
when  it  was  said  of  any  one,  he  speaks  like  a  book,  I 
thought  it  was  a  reproach  ;  but  there  is  no  doubt  that 
this  is  the  correct  expression,  and  it  gives  one  pleasure 
to  listen." 

Thus  saying,  with  her  large  open  eyes  she  looked 
from  the  interior  of  the  grotto  at  the  Scholar,  who  stood 


THE    OLD    HOUSE.  79 

in  the  entrance  leaning  against  the  stone,  brightly 
lighted  up  by  the  rays  of  the  sun. 

"There  are,  however,  many  books  that  talk  badly," 
answered  the  Professor,  smiling;  "and  nothing  tires 
one  so  much  as  lengthy  book-wisdom  from  living 
mouths." 

"Yes,  yes,"  acquiesced  Use.  "We  have  an  ac- 
quaintance, a  learned  woman,  Mrs.  Rollmaus.  When 
she  visits  us  on  Sundays,  she  places  herself  on  the  sofa, 
and  begins  a  discourse  with  my  father.  He  cannot 
escape  her,  turn  which  way  he  will,  she  knows  how  to 
pin  him  down  by  talking  about  the  English  and  Cir- 
cassians, comets  and  poets.  But  the  children  dis- 
covered she  had  a  cyclopedia  for  conversation,  from 
which  she  gathers  it  ail ;  and  when  anything  happens 
in  the  country,  or  the  newspapers  make  a  noise  about 
anything,  she  reads  in  the  cyclopedia  what  bears  upon 
it.  We  have  procured  the  same  book,  and  when  her 
visit  is  impending,  we  think  over  what  subject  is  then 
uppermost.  Then  the  children  look  out  and  read  this 
beforehand,  Saturday  evenings ;  and  our  father  also 
listens  and  himself  looks  at  the  book,  and  the  next  day 
the  children  are  delighted  that  father  vanquishes  the 
lady  by  means  of  her  own  book  ;  for  our  book  is  a 
newer  edition,  and  has  new  events  in  it  of  which  she 
knows  little." 

"So  Sunday  is  the  time  when  we  can  win  honors 
here,"  said  the  Professor. 

"In  winter  we  meet  often  during  the  week,"  con- 
tinued Use.  "But  there  is  not  much  intercourse  in 
the  neighborhood;  and  if  we  sometimes  chance  to 
have  a  visitor  who  leaves  some  pleasant  thoughts  be- 
hind, we  are  grateful  and  preserve  them  faithfully." 

"Yet  the  best  thoughts  are  those  which  come  to 


8o  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

men  through  their  own  exertions,"  said  the  Professor, 
kindly.  "The  little  that  I  have  seen  on  the  estate 
here  tells  me  how  beautifully  life  can  thrive,  even 
when  far  removed  from  the  noisy  bustle  of  the  world." 

"That  was  a  kindly  speech,  "exclaimed  Use.  "But 
we  are  not  lonely  here ;  and  we  do  interest  our- 
selves about  our  countrymen,  and  about  the  great 
world.  When  the  neighboring  proprietors  come  to 
visit,  not  a  word  is  said  about  the  farm,  and  amusing 
subjects  are  talked  of.  Then  there  is  our  dear  Pastor, 
who  tells  us  about  things  in  foreign  parts,  and  reads 
the  newspapers  that  are  taken  by  my  father  with  us. 
And  when  there  are  applications  in  them  for  contribu- 
tions to  serve  a  good  object,  the  children  are  liberal, 
and  each  gives  his  mite  from  his  savings,  but  our 
father  gives  abundantly.  And  Hans,  as  the  eldest, 
collects,  and  has  the  right  to  pack  up  the  money,  and 
in  the  accompanying  letter  he  sets  down  the  initial  of 
the  name  of  each  that  has  contributed.  Then  after- 
wards there  comes  a  printed  receipt,  when  each  looks 
for  his  own  initial.  Often  a  wrong  one  has  been 
printed,  and  this  vexes  the  children." 

From  the  distance  they  heard  the  cries  and  laughter 
of  the  children,  who  were  returning  with  the  Doctor 
from  their  excursion.  The  girl  rose,  the  Professor 
approached  her,  and  said  with  much  feeling  : 

"Whenever  my  thoughts  revert  to  this  day,  it  will 
be  with  a  feeling  of  heartfelt  gratitude  for  the  manner 
in  which  you  have  so  honestly  spoken  of  your  happy 
life  to  a  stranger." 

Use  looked  at  him  with  innocent  confidence. 

"You  are  not  a  stranger  to  me;  for  I  saw  you  at 
the  child's  grave." 


THE    OLD    HOUSE.  8l 

The  joyous  troop  surrounded  them  both,  and  they 
proceeded  further  into  the  valley. 

It  was  evening  when  they  returned  to  the  house 
where  the  proprietor  was  already  awaiting  them.  After 
supper  the  elders  passed  another  hour  together.  The 
strangers  gave  an  account  of  their  tour,  and  told  the 
last  news  from  the  world ;  and  then  there  was  conver- 
sation on  politics,  and  Use  rejoiced  that  her 'father  and 
the  strangers  agreed  so  well  on  the  subject.  When 
the  cuckoo  on  the  house  clock  proclaimed  that  it  was 
ten,  they  separated  with  a  friendly  good-night. 

The  housemaid  lighted  the  strangers  to  their  bed- 
room. Use  sat  on  a  chair  with  her  hands  folded  on 
her  lap,  looking  silently  before  her.  After  a  short  time 
the  proprietor  came  from  his  room  and  took  the  bed- 
room candle  from  the  table. 

"What!  Still  up,  Use?  How  do  the  strangers 
please  you  ?  " 

"Very  much,  father,"  said  the  maiden,  gently. 

"They  are  not  such  simpletons  as  they  look,"  said 
the  host,  pacing  to  and  fro.  "What  he  said  of  the 
great  fire  was  right,"  he  repeated,  "and  that  about 
our  little  governments  was  also  right.  The  younger 
would  have  made  a  good  schoolmaster  ;  and  as  for  the 
tall  one,  by  heaven  it  is  a  shame  that  he  has  not  worn 
jack-boots  these  four  years  ;  he  would  be  a  clever  in- 
spector. Good-night,  Use." 

"Good-night,  father."  The  daughter  rose  and  fol- 
lowed her  father  to  the  door.  "Do  the  strangers  re- 
main here  to-morrow,  father  ?  " 

"Hum,"  said  the  host,  meditating.  "They  will 
remain  for  dinner  at  all  events  ;  I  will  show  them  over 
the  farm.  See  that  you  have  something  nice  for 
dinner. " 


82  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

"Father,  the  Professor  has  never  in  his  life  eaten 
roast  pig,"  said  the  daughter. 

"Use,  what  are  you  thinking  of?  My  pig  for  the 
sake  of  Tacitus  !  "  exclaimed  the  Proprietor.  "  No,  I 
cannot  stand  that ;  be  content  with  your  poultry.  Stop  ! 
Just  hand  me  the  volume  of  the  encyclopedia  lettered 
T,  I  want  to  read  up  about  that  fellow." 

"Here,  father;  I  know  where  it  is." 

"  See  !  See  !  "  said  the  father,  "just  like  Mrs.  Roll- 
maus.  Good-night." 

The  Doctor  looked  through  the  window  into  the 
dark  court.  Sleep  and  peace  lay  over  the  wide  space  ; 
from  a  distance  sounded  the  tread  of  the  watchman  who 
went  his  rounds  through  the  homestead,  and  then  the 
suppressed  howl  of  the  farm  dog. 

"  Here  we  are,"  he  said,  at  last,  "two  genuine  ad- 
venturers in  the  enemy's  fortress.  Whether  we  shall 
carry  anything  away  from  it,  is  very  doubtful,"  he 
continued,  looking  significantly  at  his  friend,  with  a 
smile. 

"It  is  doubtful,"  said  the  Professor,  measuring  the 
room  with  long  strides. 

"What  is  the  matter  with  you,  Felix?"  asked 
Fritz,  anxiously,  after  a  pause;  "you  are  very  absent- 
minded,  which  is  not  usually  your  way." 

The  Professor  stood  still. 

"I  have  nothing  to  tell  you.  I  have  strong  but 
confused  feelings,  which  I  am  trying  to  control.  I  fear 
I  have  this  day  received  an  impression  against  which 
a  sensible  man  should  guard  himself.  Ask  me  nothing 
further,  Fritz,"  he  continued,  pressing  his  hand  vehe- 
mently. "I  do  not  feel  unhappy." 

Fritz,  deeply  troubled,  placed  himself  on  his  bed, 
and  looked  for  a  boot-jack. 


THE    OLD    HOUSE.  83 

"  How  does  our  host  please  you  ?  "  he  asked,  in  a 
low  tone,  and,  in  order  to  appear  unconcerned,  tapping 
with  his  foot  on  the  floor. 

"A  worthy  man, "  answered  the  Professor,  again 
stopping,  "but  his  manner  is  different  from  what  we 
are  accustomed  to." 

"He  is  of  old  Saxon  origin,"  the  Doctor  proceeded, 
"broad  shoulders,  giant  height,  open  countenance, 
solidity  in  every  movement.  The  children  also  are  of 
the  same  type,"  he  continued  ;  "the  daughter  is  some- 
what of  a  Thusnelda." 

'•'The  similitude  does  not  apply,"  rejoined  the  Pro- 
fessor, roughly,  continuing  his  walk. 

Fritz  drew  off  the  second  boot  in  a  slightly  dis- 
cordant mood. 

"  How  does  the  eldest  boy  please  you  ?  He  has  the 
bright  hair  of  his  sister." 

"No  comparison,"  said  the  Professor,  again  lacon- 
ically. 

Fritz  placed  both  boots  before  the  bed,  and  himself 
upon  it,  and  said  with  decision  : 

"I  am  ready  to  respect  your  humor,  even  when  I 
cannot  quite  understand  it ;  but  I  beg  you  to  take  into 
consideration  that  we  have  forced  ourselves  on  the 
hospitality  of  these  people,  and  that  we  ought  not  to 
take  advantage  of  it  beyond  to-morrow  morning." 

"Fritz,"  cried  the  Professor,  with  deep  feeling, 
"you  are  my  dear,  true  friend  ;  have  patience  with  me 
to-day  !  "  So  saying,  he  turned  round,  and  breaking 
off  the  conversation,  approached  the  window. 

Fritz  was  almost  beside  himself  with  anxiety.  This 
noble  man,  so  confident  in  all  he  wrote,  so  full  of  de- 
liberation, and  so  firm  in  decision,  even  with  regard 
to  the  obscurest  passages — and  now  some  emotion  was 


84  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

working  in  him  which  shook  his  whole  being.  How 
could  this  man  be  so  disturbed  ?  He  could  look  back 
with  majestic  clearness  on  a  past  of  many  thousand 
years,  and  now  he  was  standing  at  a  window  looking 
at  a  cow-stable,  and  something  like  a  sigh  sounded 
through  the  room.  And  what  was  to  come  of  it  ?  These 
thoughts  occupied  incessantly  the  Doctor's  mind. 

Long  did  the  Professor  pace  up  and  down  the  room  ; 
Fritz  feigned  to  sleep,  but  kept  peeping  from  under 
the  bedclothes  at  his  excited  friend.  At  last  the  Pro- 
fessor extinguished  the  light  and  threw  himself  on  his 
bed.  Soon  his  deep  breathing  showed  that  beneficent 
nature  had  softened  the  pulses  of  that  beating  heart. 
But  the  Doctor's  anxiety  held  its  ground  more  pertina- 
ciously. From  time  to  time  he  raised  his  head  from 
his  pillow,  searched  for  his  spectacles  on  the  nearest 
chair,  without  which  he  could  not  see  the  Professor, 
and  spied  through  them  at  the  other  bed,  again  took 
off  his  spectacles,  and  lay  down  on  the  pillow  with  a 
gentle  sigh.  This  act  of  friendship  he  repeated  many 
times,  till  at  last  he  fell  into  a  deep  sleep,  shortly  be- 
fore  the  sparrows  sang  their  morning  song  in  the  vine- 
arbor  beneath. 

CHAPTER  V. 
AMONG    HERDS    AND    SHEAVES. 

THE  friends  on  awakening  heard  the  clock  in  the 
courtyard  striking,  the  wagons  rolling  before  the  win- 
dow, and  the  bells  of  the  herds  tinkling.  For  a  moment 
they  looked  bewildered  at  the  walls  of  the  strange 
room,  and  through  the  window  out  on  the  sunny 
garden.  While  the  Doctor  wrote  his  memoranda  and 
packed  up  his  bundle,  the  Professor  walked  out.  The 
daily  work  had  long  begun  ;  the  men  with  their  teams 


AMONG  HERDS  AND  SHEAVES.  85 

were  gone  to  the  field ;  the  Inspector  hastened  busily 
about  the  open  barns  ;  encircled  by  the  dogs,  the  bleat- 
ing sheep  thronged  before  the  stable. 

The  landscape  shone  in  the  light  of  a  cloudless  sky. 
The  mist  hovered  over  the  earth,  subduing  the  clear 
light  of  the  morning  sun,  blending  it  with  a  delicate 
grey.  The  houses  and  trees  still  cast  long  shadows, 
the  coolness  of  the  dewy  night  still  lingered  in  shady 
places,  and  the  soft,  light  breeze  fanned  the  cheeks  of 
the  Scholar,  now  with  the  warmth  of  the  early  day- 
light, now  with  the  refreshing  breath  of  night. 

He  walked  about  the  buildings  and  the  farmyard  in 
order  to  acquaint  himself  with  the  place,  of  which 
henceforth  he  was  to  have  mingled  recollections  in  his 
soul.  The  persons  who  dwelt  here  had  with  some 
hesitation  disclosed  their  life  to  him,  and  much  in  their 
simple  pastoral  existence  appeared  to  him  pleasing  and 
attractive.  The  influences  that  here  produced  activity 
and  energy  could  everywhere  be  seen.  The  tasks  for 
each  one  and  the  duties  for  each  day  grew  in  the  soil 
of  the  farm  and  the  surrounding  country.  Their  views 
of  life  and  of  the  world  were  all  in  accordance  with 
their  surroundings.  He  felt  keenly  how  worthily  and 
happily  men  could  live  whose  life  was  so  firmly  in- 
terwoven with  nature  and  the  primitive  necessities  of 
man.  But  for  himself  his  life  was  regulated  by  other 
influences,  was  actuated  by  the  thousand  impressions 
of  ancient  and  modern  times,  and  not  unfrequently  by 
the  forms  and  circumstances  of  the  distant  past.  '  For 
a  man's  doings  in  life  are  more  to  him  than  the  passing 
labor  of  the  day,  and  all  that  he  has  done  continues  to 
work  within  him  as  a  living  principle.  The  naturalist, 
whose  desire  for  rare  plants  impels  him  to  the  towering 
mountain-  top,  whence  return  is  impossible  ;  the  soldier, 


86  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

whose  recollection  of  the  excitement  of  old  battles  im- 
pels him  into  new  combats — these  are  both  led  by  the 
power  of  thoughts  which  their  past  lives  have  made 
a  part  of  their  being.  Man,  it  is  true,  is  not  the 
slave  of  what  he  has  done,  if  he  has  not  stooped  to 
a  lower  level  ;  his  will  is  free,  he  chooses  as  he 
likes,  and  casts  off  what  he  does  not  care  to  preserve ; 
but  the  forms  and  ideas  that  have  entered  into  his 
soul  work  on  and  guide  him  unceasingly ;  he  has 
often  to  guard  himself  against  their  mastery,  but 
in  a  thousand  cases  he  joyfully  follows  their  gentle 
guidance.  All  that  was  and  all  that  is  continues  far 
beyond  his  mere  earthly  existence  in  every  new  being 
into  which  it  penetrates.  It  may  influence  millions,  for 
ages — ennobling,  elevating,  or  degrading  individuals 
and  nations.  Thus  the  spirits  of  the  past,  the  forces 
of  nature,  even  our  own  actions  and  thoughts  become 
an  inalienable,  component  part  of  the  soul,  influencing 
our  lives.  The  learned  man  smiled  as  he  thus  thought 
how  the  strange,  old  reminiscences  of  thousands  of 
years  had  brought  him  among  these  country  people, 
and  how  differently  the  different  activity  and  occupa- 
tion of  the  man  who  ruled  here,  had  shaped  his  mind 
and  judgment. 

Amid  these  thoughts  the  lowing  of  the  cattle  sounded 
softly  from  the  stalls.  Looking  up,  he  saw  a  num- 
ber of  maids  carrying  full  milk-pails  to  the  dairy.  Be- 
hind them  went  Use,  in  a  simple  morning  dress  ;  her 
fair  hair  shone  in  the  sun  like  spun  gold,  and  her  step 
was  brisk  and  vigorous  like  the  early  morn.  The  Pro- 
fessor felt  shy  about  approaching  her  ;  his  eyes  followed 
her  thoughtfully  ;  she  also  was  one  of  the  forms  that 
henceforth  was  to  live  within  him,  the  ideal  of  his 
dreams — perhaps  of  his  wishes.  For  how  long  ?  and 


AMONG    HERDS    AND    SHEAVES.  87 

how  powerfully  ?  He  did  not  realize  that  his  Roman 
emperors  were  to  aid  in  answering  this  question  within 
the  next  hour. 

The  proprietor  came  across  the  farm-yard  and, 
greeting  the  Professor,  invited  him  to  take  a  short  walk 
into  the  fields.  As  the  two  walked  together — both 
able  men,  and  yet  so  different  in  face  and  figure,  in 
mind  and  manners — many  would  have  noted  the  con- 
trast with  deep  interest,  and  Use  not  last  among  them. 
But  no  one  that  did  not  have  the  eyes  of  a  treasure- 
seeker  or  exorcist  could  perceive  how  different  were  the 
invisible  retinues  of  tiny  spirits  that  flitted  round  the 
temples  and  shoulders  of  each, — comparable  to  swarms 
of  countless  birds  or  bees.  The  spirits  that  attended 
the  farmer  were  in  homely  working  garb,  blue  blouses 
and  fluttering  bandanas,  among  them  a  few  forms  in 
the  misty  robes  of  Faith,  Hope,  and  Charity.  On 
the  other  hand,  round  the  Professor  swarmed  an  in- 
visible throng  of  foreign  phantoms  with  togas,  and 
antique  helmets,  in  purple  robes  and  Greek  chlamys, 
athletes  also — some  with  bundles  of  rods  and  winged 
hats.  The  little  retinue  of  the  Proprietor  flew  in- 
cessantly over  the  fields  and  back  again ;  the  swarm 
round  the  Professor  remained  steadily  by  him.  At 
last  the  proprietor  stopped  at  one  particular  field ;  he 
looked  at  it  with  great  delight,  and  mentioned  that  he 
had  here  succeeded  by  deep  ploughing  in  growing 
green  lupines,  then  newly  introduced  into  cultivation. 
The  Professor  seemed  surprised ;  among  his  spirit- 
retinue  there  arose  a  confused  stir ;  one  of  the  small 
antique  spirits  flew  to  the  nearest  clod  of  earth  and 
fastened  thereto  a  delicate  web  which  it  had  spun  from 
the  head  of  the  Professor.  Whereupon  the  Professor 
told  his  companion  how  deep  ploughing  for  green  lu- 


88  THE.LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

pines  had  been  the  custom  of  the  Romans,  and  how 
rejoiced  he  was  that  now  after  more  than  a  thousand 
years  this  old  discovery  had  been  brought  to  light  again 
in  our  farming.  They  then  spoke  of  the  change  in 
agriculture,  and  the  Professor  mentioned  how  striking 
it  was  that  three  hundred  years  after  the  beginning  of 
our  era,  the  corn  exchanges  at  the  harbors  of  the 
Black  Sea  and  Asia  Minor  were  so  similar  to  those  of 
Hamburg  and  London  in  modern  days,  while  at  present 
other  agricultural  produce  was  principally  cultivated 
in  the  East.  Finally,  he  told  him  of  a  grain  tariff 
that  was  imposed  by  a  Roman  emperor,  and  that 
unfortunately  the  price  of  wheat  and  barley,  the  two 
products  on  which  then  depended  other  prices  and 
duties,  were  effaced  from  the  stone  tablet  that  had 
been  preserved.  And  he  explained  why  this  loss  was 
so  much  to  be  lamented.  Then  the  heart  of  the  host  be- 
gan to  expand,  and  he  assured  the  Professor  that  the  fact 
need  not  be  lamented,  for  the  lost  value  might  be  fixed 
from  the  price  of  the  remaining  products  bearing  straw 
and  husk,  because  the  prices  of  all  agricultural  produce 
taken  as  a  whole  bore  a  firm  and  ancient  ratio  among 
each  other.  He  gave  this  relation  of  their  productive 
value  in  figures,  and  the  Professor  discovered  with  joy- 
ful astonishment  that  they  agreed  with  the  tariff  of  his 
old  Emperor  Diocletian. 

While  the  men  were  carrying  on  this  desultory  con- 
versation, a  mischievous  wide-awake  spirit,  probably 
the  Emperor  Diocletian  himself,  flew  from  the  Pro- 
fessor, made  his  way  through  the  peasant  spirits  of  the 
proprietor,  placed  himself  in  his  purple  robe  on  the 
head  of  the  master,  stamped  with  his  little  feet  on  his 
skull,,  and  impressed  the  farmer  with  the  belief  that 
the  Professor  was  a  sensible  and  worthy  man,  who 


AMONG    HERDS    AND    SHEAVES.  89 

might  give  him  further  information  on  the  value  and 
price  of  agricultural  produce.  It  also  pleased  the  Pro- 
prietor much  that  he  could  give  the  learned  gentleman 
instruction  in  his  own  department. 

When,  at  the  end  of  an  hour,  the  two  strollers  re- 
turned to  the  house,  the  Proprietor  stopped  at  the 
door  and  said  with  some  solemnity  to  the  Professor, 
"When  I  brought  you  here  yesterday,  I  little  knew 
whom  I  had  with  me.  It  grieves  me  that  I  greeted  so 
inhospitably  a  man  like  you.  Your  acquaintance  has 
become  a  pleasure  to  me ;  it  is  rare  to  meet  with  a 
person  with  whom  one  can  speak  about  everything 
as  one  can  with  you.  As  you  are  traveling  for  recrea- 
tion, pray  be  pleased  to  pass  some  time  with  us  simple 
folk — the  longer  the  better.  It  is  indeed  not  a  season 
when  a  country  host  can  make  the  house  agreeable  to 
his  guests,  so  you  must  be  content.  If  you  wish  to 
work,  and  require  books,  you  may  have  them  brought 
here  ;  and  pray  observe  whether  the  Romans  had  win- 
ter barley  which  was  lighter  than  ours.  Do  me  the 
honor  of  accepting  my  invitation."  So  saying,  he  cor- 
dially extended  his  hand  to  his  guest.  The  Professor's 
countenance  beamed  with  delight ;  he  eagerly  clasped 
the  hand  of  his  friendly  host.  "  If  you  are  willing  to 
keep  me  and  my  friend  a  few  days  longer,  I  accept 
your  invitation  with  all  my  heart.  I  must  tell  you  that 
the  insight  into  a  new  circle  of  human  interests  is  most 
valuable  to  me,  but  still  more  so  the  kindness  with 
which  you  have  treated  us." 

"Settled!"  exclaimed  the  Proprietor,  cheerfully; 
"now  we  will  call  your  friend." 

The  Doctor  opened  his  door.  When  the  Proprietor 
warmly  repeated  the  invitation  to  him,  he  looked  for 
a  moment  earnestly  at  his  friend,  and  when  the  latter 


go  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

gave  him  a  friendly  nod,  he  also  accepted  for  the  few 
days  which  were  still  free  before  the  promised  visit  to 
his  relatives.  Thus  it  happened  that  the  Emperor 
Diocletian,  fifteen  hundred  years  after  he  had  unvol- 
untarily  left  the  world,  exercised  his  tyrannical  power 
over  the  Professor  and  Proprietor.  Whether  there 
were  other  ancient  powers  actively  working  in  secret, 
is  not  ascertained. 

Use  listened  silently  to  her  father's  information  that 
the  gentlemen  would  be  his  guests  some  time  longer, 
but  her  look  fell  so  bright  and  warm  on  the  strangers 
that  they  rejoiced  in  being  welcomed  by  her  also. 

From  this  hour  they  were  introduced  into  the  house- 
hold as  old  acquaintances,  and  both,  though  they  had 
never  lived  in  the  country,  felt  it  indispensable,  and 
as  if  they  had  returned  to  a  home  in  which  years  be- 
fore they  had  once  bustled  about.  It  was  a  busy  life 
there,  and  yet,  even  when  work  was  most  pressing  and 
earnest,  there  was  a  cheerful  repose  about  it.  Without 
much  ado  they  all  worked  in  unison.  The  daylight 
was  the  supreme  patron,  who,  at  its  rise,  called  to 
work,  and  when  extinguished,  gave  rest  to  weary  limbs ; 
the  laborers  looked  up  to  the  sky  to  measure  their 
hours  of  work,  and  the  sun  and  the  clouds  influenced 
their  frame  of  mind,  sometimes  inducing  comfort  and 
sometimes  anxiety.  Slowly  and  gently,  as  nature  draws 
the  blossoms  out  of  the  earth  and  matures  the  fruits, 
did  the  feelings  of  these  men  grow  into  blossoms  and 
fruits.  In  peaceful  relations  the  workers  passed  their 
lives.  Small  impressions,  such  as  a  few  kind  words 
or  a  friendly  look,  sufficed  to  entwine  a  firm  bond  round 
these  various  natures — a  bond  woven  with  invisible 
threads ;  but  which  attained  a  strength  sufficient  to 
last  through  a  whole  life. 


AMONG    HERDS    AND    SHEAVES.  QI 

The  friends  also  felt  the  influence  of  the  peace, 
daily  activity,  and  small  events  of  the  country.  Only 
when  they  looked  toward  the  old  house  and  thought 
of  the  hope  which  had  led  them  hither,  did  something 
of  the  disquiet  come  over  them  which  children  feel 
when  expecting  a  Christmas-box  ;  and  the  quiet  work 
of  their  fancy  threw  a  brilliant  light  over  all  that  be- 
longed to  the  house,  even  down  to  the  barking  Nero, 
who,  as  early  as  the  second  day,  expressed  by  the  ve- 
hement wagging  of  his  tail,  his  wish  to  be  taken  into 
their  fellowship  at  table. 

The  Doctor  did  not  fail  to  remark  how  strongly  his 
friend  was  attracted  by  this  quiet  life,  and  with  what 
tact  he  adapted  himself  to  the  inhabitants  of  the  house. 
The  Proprietor,  before  he  rode  to  the  distant  part  of 
the  farm,  brought  him  some  agricultural  books,  and 
spoke  to  him  of  the  different  varieties  of  grain,  and  the 
Professor  answered  him  modestly,  as  became  a  young 
gentleman  in  top-boots,  and  immersed  himself  forth- 
with in  these  new  interests.  Also  between  Use  and 
the  Professor  there  was  an  evident  understanding, 
the  cause  of  which  occasioned  the  Doctor  some  dis- 
quiet. When  the  Professor  spoke  to  her,  it  was  with 
deep  respect,  both  in  voice  and  look,  and  Use  always 
turned  by  preference  to  him,  and  was  quietly  but  in- 
cessantly endeavoring  to  give  him  pleasure.  When  at 
table  he  picked  up  her  handkerchief,  he  handed  it  to 
her  with  a  respectful  bow  as  to  a  princess.  When  she 
handed  him  his  cup  he  looked  as  happy  as  if  he  had 
discovered  the  secret  meaning  of  some  difficult  passage 
in  an  author.  Then  in  the  evening,  when  he  sat  with 
the  father  in  the  garden  and  Use  came  behind  them 
from  the  house,  his  countenance  brightened  up,  though 
he  had  not  yet  seen  her.  When  she  distributed  to  the 


Q2  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

children  their  supper,  and  was  obliged  to  scold  little 
Franz  for  being  naughty,  the  Professor  suddenly 
looked  as  dismal  as  if  he  himself  were  a  boy  whom  the 
displeasure  of  his  sister  was  to  improve.  These  ob- 
servations set  the  Doctor  a-thinking. 

Furthermore,  when,  shortly  after  study-time  Hans 
proposed  to  the  Doctor  to  play  a  friendly  game  of 
blind-man's-buff,  Fritz  assumed,  as  a  matter  of  course, 
that  the  Professor  would  in  the  meantime  converse 
with  the  father  in  the  arbor,  and  he  never  dreamed  of 
asking  anything  so  extravagant  of  his  learned  friend 
as  to  join  in  the  game.  How  astonished  then  was  he 
when  Use,  having  folded  the  handkerchief,  approached 
the  Professor,  requested  him  to  be  blinded  first,  and 
he,  the  Professor,  looked  quite  happy  at  the  idea, 
offered  his  head  gently — like  a  lamb  to  the  sacrifice — 
to  be  covered,  and  allowed  himself  to  be  led  by 
Use  into  the  midst  of  the  circle  of  little  rompers. 
Noisily  did  the  swarm  circle  round  the  Professor ;  the 
impudent  children  pulled  him  by  the  flaps  of  his  coat, 
even  Use  contrived  to  lay  hold  of  a  button  and  draw 
him  gently  by  it.  This  put  him  in  a  state  of  excite- 
ment ;  he  felt  about  with  his  hands,  and  minded  no  at- 
tacks of  the  assaulting  children,  only  seeking  to  seize 
the  fair  offender ;  and  when  he  did  not  succeed,  he 
kept  poking  about  with  his  sticks  and  groping  like  the 
blind  singer  Demodokus  to  catch  a  Phaeacian.  Now, 
at  last,  he  hit  exactly  upon  Use,  but  she  passed  the 
end  of  the  stick  to  her  sister,  and  Clara  whistled  on  it, 
but  he  exclaimed,  "  Fraulein  Use  !  "  She  was  delighted 
that  he  had  guessed  wrong,  and  he  looked  much 
puzzled. 

Other  games  followed,  in  all  of  which  the  Professor 
showed  such  dexterity  that  the  children  were  quite 


AMONG    HERDS    AND    SHEAVES.  93 

enchanted,  though  Franz  called  out  indignantly  that 
he  did  not  strike  Use  hard  enough  when  he  had  the 
knotted  handkerchief.  Use,  however,  took  the  hand- 
kerchief, and,  much  to  the  Scholar's  astonishment  and 
delight,  struck  him  heartily  over  the  shoulders. 

The  Doctor  joined  in  the  sports,  and  looked  with 
pleasure  at  the  movements  of  the  wild  maidens  in  the 
games ;  and  when  Use  stood  by  a  tree  and  laid  hold 
of  a  branch  with  her  hand  in  order  to  support  herself, 
her  glowing  face  wreathed  by  the  leaves  of  the  nut- 
tree,  she  looked  so  lovely  and  happy  that  the  Doctor 
was  also  enchanted. 

In  such  a  bacchanalian  mood  it  was  not  to  be  won- 
dered at  that  the  Professor  at  last  called  upon  Hans  to 
run  a  race  twice  around  the  square.  Amidst  the 
shouts  of  the  children  Hans  lost  the  race,  because  he 
had  as  he  sturdily  maintained  the  inner  side  of  the 
square,  but  the  others  scouted  at  any  such  excuse. 
As  the  runners  dashed  up  to  the  arbor,  Use  handed 
to  the  Professor  his  great  coat,  which  she  had  mean- 
while fetched  from  the  coat-rack  in  the  hall.  "It 
is  late,  you  must  not  take  cold  while  with  us."  It  was 
not  at  all  late,  but  he  put  on  the  coat  at  once,  button- 
ed it  up  from  top  to  bottom,  and,  with  a  look  of  satis- 
faction, shook  his  opponent  Hans  by  the  shoulder. 
Afterwards  they  all  sat  down  again  in  the  arbor,  in 
order  to  cool  themselves.  Here,  at  the  vociferous 
demands  of  the  little  ones,  a  thaler  was  passed  round 
while  a  song  was  sung,  and  the  more  observant  part 
of  the  family  loudly  declared  that  the  thaler  had  twice 
fallen  to  the  ground  between  Use  and  the  Professor, 
because  they  had  not  passed  it  firmly  enough  into 
each  other's  hands.  By  this  game  the  love  of  song 
was  awakened  among  the  young  people,  and  great  and 


94  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

small  sang  together  as  loud  as  they  could,  such  songs 
as  had  become  familiar  to  them — "On  the  Cool  Banks 
of  the  Saal,"  "Song  of  the  Cloak,"  and  the  catch  of 
"The  Bells  of  Capernaum."  After  that  Use  and 
Clara,  at  the  request  of  the  Doctor,  sang  a  folk-song, 
very  simple  and  unadorned,  and  perhaps  on  that  ac- 
count the  melancholy  style  touched  the  heart,  so  that 
after  the  song  all  were  quiet,  and  the  strangers  ap- 
peared much  moved  till  the  Proprietor  called  upon 
the  guests  to  contribute  their  share.  The  Professor, 
recovering  from  his  emotion,  began  immediately  to 
sing,  in  a  rich-toned  bass,  "  In  a  deep,  damp  cellar  I 
sat,"  so  that  the  boys  in  their  enthusiasm  drank  up 
the  remains  of  their  glasses  of  milk  and  clinked  them 
on  the  table.  Again  the  company  broke  out  into  a 
chorus  ;  they  began  the  dear  old  song,  "What  is  the 
German  Fatherland,"  so  far  as  they  knew  the  verses, 
and  in  conclusion  they  attempted  "  Liitzow's  Wild 
Charge."  The  Doctor,  as  an  experienced  chorus- 
singer,  carried  the  melody  beautifully  through  the 
most  difficult  passages,  and  the  refrain  sounded  won- 
derfully in  the  calm  evening  air ;  the  tones  passed 
along  the  vine  arbor  and  wall,  and  over  the  top  of 
the  fruit  trees  up  to  the  thicket  of  the  nearest  hill, 
and  came  back  from  thence  as  an  echo. 

After  this  masterpiece  the  children's  party  broke 
up,  and  they  were  unwillingly  taken  by  Use  to  the 
house,  but  the  men  continued  in  conversation  a  little 
longer ;  they  had  laughed  and  sung  together,  and  be- 
came confidential.  The  Proprietor  spoke  of  his  early 
days,  how  he  had  tried  his  luck  here  and  there,  and 
at  last  had  established  himself  firmly  in  this  place. 
The  struggle  of  daily  life  had  been  weary  and  toil- 
some ;  he  gladly  called  it  to  mind  at  this  hour, 


AMONG    HERDS    AND    SHEAVES.  95 

and  spoke  of  it  with  the  good  sense  of  an  energetic 
man. 

Thus  passed  the  second  day  on  the  estate — be- 
neath sun  and  stars,  amongst  the  sheaves  and  the  herds. 

The  following  morning  the  Professor  was  awaked 
by  the  loud  noise  of  the  feathered  farmyard  denizens; 
the  cock  flew  upon  a  stone  beneath  the  window  of  the 
visitor's  room,  and  sounded  his  morning  clarion  im- 
periously ;  the  hens  and  young  chickens  stood  in  a 
circle  round  him,  and  endeavored  to  practice  the  same 
art ;  in  between  the  sparrows  chirruped  loud,  then 
the  doves  flew  up  and  cooed  their  song,  at  last  there 
came  an  army  of  ducks  who  began  quacking  a  second 
chorus.  The  Professor  found  it  necessary  to  rise,  and 
the  Doctor  called  out  querulously  from  his  bed  :  "That 
comes  from  yesterday's  singing ;  now  we  hear  the 
effect  it  had  on  all  the  associated  farmyard  musi- 
cians." But  in  this  he  was  in  error,  the  little  flock  of 
the  farmyard  sang  only  from  official  zeal  to  announce 
that  a  stormy  day  might  be  expected. 

When  the  Professor  went  into  the  open  air,  the 
morning  light  still  glowed  like  fire  in  the  heavens, 
and  the  first  rays  of  light  shimmered  over  the  fields 
in  broken  and  trembling  waves.  The  ground  was 
dry,  no  dewdrops  hung  on  leaf  or  turf.  The  air  also 
was  sultry,  and  the  heads  of  the  flowers  drooped 
languidly  on  their  stalks.  Had  a  second  sun  appeared 
in  the  night  ?  But  the  clear  piping  of  the  yellow 
thrush  sounded  from  the  top  of  an  old  cherry  tree  in- 
cessantly. The  old  gardener,  Jacob,  looked  at  the 
tree,  shaking  his  head:  "I  thought  that  the  rogue 
had  gone  away,  he  has  made  too  much  havoc  among 
the  cherries,  and  now  he  is  giving  us  information  be- 
fore he  leaves  ;  something  is  brewing  to-day." 


96  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

Ifse,  as  she  came  from  the  dairy,  said:  "The 
cows  are  unquiet,  they  low  and  push  against  one 
another." 

The  sun  rose  red  out  of  heavy  vapor — the  laborers 
in  the  field  felt  a  weariness  in  their  limbs,  and  con- 
tinually stopped  in  their  work  to  dry  their  faces.  The 
shepherd  was  to-day  discontented  with  his  flock ;  the 
wethers  were  bent  upon  gamboling  instead  of  eating, 
they  bucked  one  another,  and  the  young  ones  frisked 
and  danced  about  as  if  they  were  set  on  wires.  Dis- 
order and  willfulness  could  not  be  restrained.  The 
dog  circled  round  the  excited  animals  incessantly ;  but 
his  tail  hung  between  his  legs,  and  when  he  tugged 
at  a  sheep,  the  animal  long  felt  the  ungentle  bite. 

The  sun  rose  higher  in  the  cloudless  heavens — the 
day  became  hotter — a  light  vapor  rose  from  the  earth 
which  made  the  distance  indistinct ;  the  sparrows  flew 
restlessly  about  the  tops  of  the  trees,  the  swallows 
skimmed  along  the  ground  and  circled  round  the  men. 
The  friends  went  to  their  room  ;  here  also  they  felt 
the  exhausting  sultriness  ;  the  Doctor,  who  was  sketch- 
ing a  plan  of  the  house,  laid  down  his  pencil.  The 
Professor  was  reading  about  agriculture  and  the  rear- 
ing of  cattle,  but  he  often  looked  up  from  his  book  to 
the  sky,  opened  the  window  and  closed  it  again.  The 
dinner  was  .quieter  than  usual,  the  host  looked  serious, 
and  his  staff  hardly  allowed  themselves  time  to  empty 
their  plates. 

"We  shall  have  trouble  to-day,"  said  the  master 
of  the  house  to  his  daughter,  on  rising.  "  I  will  ride 
to  the  outskirts ;  if  I  am  not  back  before  the  storm, 
look  after  the  house  and  farm." 

Again  men  and  horses  went  to  the  field,  but  to- 
day they  went  unwillingly.  The  heat  became  un- 


AMONG    HERDS    AND    SHEAVES.  97 

bearable,  the  afternoon  sun  fell  scorchingly  on  their 
heads ;  rock  and  walls  glowed  with  heat ;  a  white 
cloud  curtained  the  heavens,  which  visibly  thickened 
and  massed  itself  together.  The  ploughboys  eagerly 
took  the  horses  to  the  stables,  the  laborers  hastened 
to  unload  the  sheaves,  and  drove  the  wagons  at  a 
quicker  pace  in  order  to  shelter  one  more  load  under 
a  roof  before  the  storm  arose. 

The  friends  stood  before  the  farm-gate  and  looked 
at  the  heavy  clouds  which  were  gathering  upon  the 
horizon.  The  yellow  light  of  the  sun  struggled  for  a 
short  time  against  the  dark  shadows ;  finally  the  last 
glare  of  light  disappeared,  and  the  earth  lay  darkened 
and  mournful.  Use  approached  them  :  "  The  time  is 
come ;  about  four  o'clock  the  storm  will  rise.  It  sel- 
dom comes  over  the  level  land  from  the  east,  but  when 
it  does  it  is  always  severe  with  us,  for  people  say  it  is 
because  it  cannot  break  over  the  hilltops  which  you 
see  from  the  garden ;  then  it  hangs  long  over  our 
fields,  and  they  say  the  thunder  here  is  more  violent 
than  elsewhere." 

The  first  burst  of  the  wind  howled  over  the  house. 
"I  must  go  through  the  farmyard  to  see  that  all  is 
right,"  exclaimed  Use,  as  she  wrapped  a  handkerchief 
quickly  round  her  head  and  hurried  on,  accompanied 
by  the  men,  through  the  storm  to  the  farm-building 
in  which  the  fire-engine  stood ;  she  looked  to  see 
whether  the  door  was  open  and  whether  there  was 
water  in  the  barrels  ;  then  she  hastened  forward  to  the 
stables  while  the  straw  whirled  round  her  ;  she  warned 
the  servants  once  more  with  a  cheerful  call,  rapidly 
spoke  a  few  words  to  the  officials  and  returned  to  the 
house.  She  looked  into  the  kitchen  and  opened  the 
door  of  the  children's  room  to  see  whether  all  of  her 


98  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

brothers  and  sisters  were  with  the  tutor.  Lastly,  she 
let  in  the  dog,  who  was  barking  piteously  at  the  gate 
of  the  farmyard,  and  then  returned  to  the  friends, 
who,  from  the  window  of  the  sitting-room,  were 
watching  the  fury  of  the  elements.  "The  house  is 
secured,  as  far  as  it  is  possible  for  human  beings  ;  but 
we  place  our  trust  in  a  stronger  Protector,"  said  Use. 

The  storm  slowly  approached,  one  dark  mass  roll- 
ing on  after  another,  and  under  them,  like  a  monstrous 
curtain,  a  pale  veil  of  mist  rose  higher  and  higher ; 
the  thunder  rolled  at  shorter  intervals,  and  grew  more 
wildly  ominous ;  the  storm  howled  round  the  house  ; 
thick  clouds  of  dust  chased  angrily  about  the  walls  ; 
leaves  and  blades  of  straw  flew  about  in  wild  dance. 

"  The  lion  is  roaring,"  said  Use,  folding  her  hands. 
She  bent  her  head  for  some  moments,  then  looked 
silently  out  of  the  window.  "Father  is  at  the  out- 
lying farm  under  shelter,"  she  began  again,  anticipat- 
ing a  question  of  the  Professor. 

It  was,  indeed,  a  violent  storm  that  raged  about 
the  old  house.  Those  who  listened  for  the  first  time 
in  this  place,  on  the  open  height,  alongside  the  ridge 
of  hills,  from  which  the  rolling,  tumultuous  crash  of 
the  thunder  resounded,  felt  that  they  had  never  ex- 
perienced such  power  in  nature  before.  While  the 
thunder  roared,  the  room  suddenly  became  dark  as 
night,  and  ever  and  anon  the  dismal  twilight  was 
pierced  by  the  flash  of  fiery  serpents  that  swept  over 
the  farm. 

There  was  noise  in  the  children's  room  ;  the  crying 
of  the  little  ones  could  be  heard.  Use  went  to  the 
door  and  opened  it.  "Come  to  me,"  she  called  out. 
The  children  ran  in  terrified,  and  pressed  round  their 
sister ;  the  youngest  clung  to  her  dress.  Use  took  the 


AMONG    HERDS    AND    SHEAVES.  99 

little  child  and  placed  it  under  the  charge  of  the  Pro- 
fessor, who  was  standing  by  her  side.  ''Be  quiet, 
and  say  your  prayer  softly,"  she  said;  "this  is  no 
time  for  weeping  and  complaining." 

Suddenly  came  a  light  so  blinding  that  it  caused 
them  to  close  their  eyes — and  a  sharp  concussion, 
ending  in  a  discordant  crash.  When  the  Professor 
opened  his  eyes,  by  the  light  of  another  flash  he  saw 
Use  standing  by  his  side,  her  head  turned  toward  him 
with  a  radiant  look.  He  exclaimed,  anxiously:  "That 
has  struck." 

"Not  in  the  farmyard,"  replied  the  maiden,  un- 
moved. 

Again  a  clap,  and  again  a  flash,  and  a  clap,  wilder, 
shorter,  sharper.  "It  is  just  above  us,"  said  Use, 
calmly,  pressing  the  head  of  her  little  brother  to  her 
as  if  to  protect  him. 

The  Professor  could  not  turn  his  eyes  from  the 
group  in  the  middle  of  the  room.  The  noble  figure  of 
the  woman  before  him,  erect,  motionless,  surrounded 
by  the  frightened  brothers  and  sisters,  the  countenance 
raised,  and  a  proud  smile  playing  about  the  mouth. 
And  she,  in  a  moment  of  uncontrollable  feeling,  had 
confided  to  his  care  one  of  the  lives  that  were  so 
dear  to  her ;  he  stood  in  the  hour  of  danger  near  her 
as  one  of  hers.  He  firmly  held  the  child,  which 
clasped  him  in  terror.  They  were  short  moments, 
these ;  but  between  flash  and  thunder-clap  the  spark 
that  glowed  in  him  had  blazed  out  into  a  bright  flame. 
She  who  stood  near  him  in  the  lightning,  suffused 
with  the  blinding  light,  she  it  was  who  had  become  ne- 
cessary to  his  life. 

Still  longer  did  the  thunder  roar ;  the  heavy  rain 
beat  against  the  window;  it  clattered  and  dashed 


10O  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

round  the  house  ;  the  windows  trembled  under  the 
raging  outburst  of  the  storm. 

"  It  is  over,"  said  Use,  gently.  The  children  se- 
parated and  ran  to  the  window.  "  Up-stairs,  Hans  !  " 
cried  the  sister,  and  hastened  with  her  brother  out  of 
the  room  to  see  whether  the  water  had  made  its  way 
in  anywhere.  The  Professor  looked  thoughtfully 
toward  the  door  through  which  she  had  disappeared ; 
but  the  Doctor,  who  meanwhile  had  been  seated 
quietly  on  a  chair,  with  his  hands  on  his  knees,  shak- 
ing his  head,  began:  " These  freaks  of  nature  are 
against  us.  Since  lightning  conductors  have  come  into 
discredit,  one  has  not  the  poor  comfort  of  thinking  that 
the  old  manuscript  has  even  their  protection  against 
the  attacks  of  the  weather.  This  is  a  bad  habitation 
for  our  poor  old  manuscript,  and  it  is  verily  a  Christian 
duty  to  rescue  the  book  as  quickly  as  possible  from 
such  a  dangerous  thunder-trap.  Shall  we  be  able  in 
the  future,  with  any  tranquillity  of  mind,  to  look  upon 
a  cloud  in  the  heavens?  It  will  remind  us  of  the  dis- 
asters that  may  befall  this  place." 

"The  house  has  held  out  hitherto,"  answered  the 
Professor,  laughing.  "Let  us  leave  the  manuscript 
meanwhile  to  the  good  Power  in  whom  the  people 
here  so  firmly  trust.  The  sun's  rays  are  already  break- 
ing through  the  mist." 

Half  an  hour  later  it  was  all  over ;  the  dark  clouds 
still  hovered  above  the  hills,  and  from  the  distance  re- 
sounded the  harmless  thunder.  Life  began  to  stir 
again  in  the  empty  farmyard.  First,  the  ducks  came 
forth  with  joyous  haste  from  their  hiding-place,  cleaned 
their  feathers,  examined  the  puddles  of  water,  and 
quacked  along  the  ruts  made  by  the  wheels  ;  then  came 
the  cock  with  his  hens,  cautiously  treading,  and  pick- 


AMONG    HERDS    AND    SHEAVES.  IOI 

ing  the  soaked  seeds  ;  the  doves  flew  on  to  the  pro- 
jections of  the  window,  wished  each  other  good  for- 
tune with  friendly  nods  and  spread  their  feathers  in  the 
fresh  sunlight.  Nero  bounded  boldly  out  of  the  house, 
trotted  through  the  farmyard,  and  barked  in  the  air 
by  way  of  challenge  to  frighten  away  the  hostile  clouds. 
The  maids  and  laborers  again  stepped  actively  about 
the  place,  breathing  the  refreshing  balsam  of  the  moist 
air.  The  Inspector  came  and  reported  that  the  light- 
ning had  struck  twice  on  the  neighboring  hill.  The 
Proprietor,  thoroughly  wet  through,  rode  rapidly  in, 
anxious  to  see  whether  his  house  and  farm-buildings 
were  undamaged.  He  sprang  gaily  from  his  horse, 
and  exclaimed  :  "The  rain  penetrated  everything  out 
there.  But,  God  be  praised,  it  has  passed  over.  We 
have  not  had  such  a  storm  here  for  years. "  The  people 
listened  also  for  awhile  as  the  head  ploughman  related 
that  he  had  seen  a  pillar  of  water,  which  hung  like  a 
great  sack  from  heaven  to  earth,  and  that  it  had  hailed 
violently  on  the  other  side  of  the  border.  Then  they 
entered  the  stable  with  great  equanimity,  and  enjoyed 
the  hour  of  rest  that  the  bad  weather  had  brought 
them.  While  the  Proprietor  was  talking  to  his  staff, 
the  Doctor  prepared  to  descend,  with  the  boys  and 
the  tutor,  into  the  valley,  there  to  see  the  overflow- 
ing brook. 

But  the  Professor  and  Use  remained  in  the  orchard, 
and  the  former  was  astonished  at  the  number  of  snails 
that  now  came  out  everywhere,  trailing  slowly  over 
the  path  ;  and  he  took  one  after  the  other  and  placed 
them  carefully  out  of  the  way,  but  the  senseless  crea- 
tures always  returned  again  to  the  firm  gravel,  expect- 
ing that  the  foot-passengers  were  to  get  out  of  their  way. 
They  both  examined  the  fruit  trees  to  see  how  they 


102  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

had  borne  the  storm.  They  were  much  broken,  and 
their  branches  bent  down.  Much  unripe  fruit  lay  scat- 
tered on  the  grass.  The  Professor  cautiously  shook 
the  branches,  bending  under  the  weight  of  the  rain, 
in  order  to  free  them  from  their  burden ;  he  fetched 
some  poles  to  support  an  old  apple  tree  which  was  in 
danger  of  breaking  under  the  weight,  and  both  laughed 
heartily  when,  in  the  course  of  his  work,  the  water 
from  the  leaves  ran  in  small  streams  down  his  hair  and 
coat. 

Use  clasped  her  hands  together,  lamenting  over  the 
fall  of  so  much  fruit ;  but  there  was  still  much  on  the 
trees,  and  they  might  yet  hope  for  a  rich  harvest.  The 
Professor  sympathized  with  her  and  advised  her  to  dry 
the  fallen  fruit,  and  Use  laughed  again  at  this  because 
most  of  it  was  unripe.  The  Professor  confided  to  her 
that  he  as  a  boy  had  helped  his  dear  mother  when  she 
used  to  arrange  the  fruit  on  the  drying-board  ;  for  his 
parents  had  owned  a  large  garden  in  the  town  in  which 
his  father  was  an  official.  Use  listened  with  eager  in- 
terest when  he  related  further  how  he  had  lost  his  fa- 
ther as  a  boy,  and  how  lovingly  and  wisely  his  mother 
had  cared  for  him,  how  confidential  his  relations  with 
her  had  been,  and  that  her  loss  had  been  the  greatest 
sorrow  of  his  life.  Then  they  walked  up  and  down 
along  the  gravel  walk,  and  in  both  of  them  an  echo  of 
the  sorrow  of  past  days  intermingled  with  the  cheer- 
ful mood  of  the  present ;  just  as  in  nature  the  move- 
ment of  a  violent  storm  leaves  after  it  a  gentle  trem- 
bling, and  the  pure  light  of  day  sparkles  on  bower 
and  blade  like  countless  glittering  precious  stones. 

Use  opened  a  gate  which  led  from  the  lower  part 
of  the  orchard  into  the  open  country,  and  standing 
still,  said,  hesitatingly  :  "I  propose  a  walk  into  the 


AMONG    HERDS    AND    SHEAVES.  103 

village  to  see  how  our  Pastor  has  stood  the  storm ; 
would  you  like  to  make  the  acquaintance  of  our  dear 
friend  ?" 

"  I  shall  be  delighted  to  do  so,"  answered  the  Pro- 
fessor. 

They  walked  along  a  damp  footpath  that  wound 
its  way  through  the  length  of  the  valley  by  the  side  of 
the  churchyard.  Near  it  lay  a  little  village  of  closely- 
packed  houses,  in  which  dwelt  most  of  the  laborers  of 
the  estate.  The  first  building  below  the  church  was 
the  Pastor's  house,  with  a  wooden  roof  and  small  win- 
dows, differing  little  from  the  dwellings  of  the  country 
people.  Use  opened  the  door,  and  an  old  maid-serv- 
ant hastened  toward  her  with  a  familiar  greeting. 

"  Ah,  Miss,"  she  exclaimed,  "we  had  bad  weather 
to-day.  I  thought  the  day  of  judgment  had  surely 
come.  Master  stood  constantly  at  the  chamber  win- 
dow looking  up  to  the  manor  and  raising  his  hands 
in  prayer  for  you.  He  is  at  present  in  the  garden." 

The  guests  passed  out  through  the  rear  door  into 
a  small  space  between  the  gables  and  barns  of  the 
neighboring  farmyards.  A  few  low  fruit  trees  stood 
along  the  edges  of  the  flower-beds.  The  old  gentle- 
man, in  a  dark  dressing-gown,  stood  by  an  espalier, 
working  industriously. 

"My  dear  child,"  he  cried,  looking  up,  and  a  smile 
of  pleasure  lighted  up  the  kind  face  under  his  white 
hair,  "  I  knew  that  you  would  come  to-day." 

He  bowed  to  the  stranger,  and,  after  a  few  words 
of  greeting,  turned  again  to  Use. 

"  Only  think  what  a  misfortune — the  storm  has 
broken  our  peach  tree,  the  espalier  is  torn  up  and  the 
branches  are  shattered  ;  the  damage  is  irreparable." 


104  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

He  bent  over  the  disabled  tree,  which  he  had  just 
bound  up  with  a  bandage  of  tree-gum  and  matting. 

"  It  is  the  only  peach  tree  here,"  he  said,  lament- 
ingly,  to  the  Professor  ;  "they  have  none  on  the  whole 
estate,  nor  any  in  the  town.  But  I  must  not  worry 
you  with  my  little  troubles,"  he  continued,  more  cheer- 
fully ;  "  I  pray  you  come  with  me  into  the  house." 

Use  entered  the  side  door  of  an  extension,  near  the 
house  proper.  "  How  is  Flavia  ?  "  she  inquired  of  the 
maid,  who  stood  at  the  threshold,  anticipating  the  visit. 

"Doing  very  well,"  answered  Susannah,  "and  the 
little  one  also." 

"  It  is  the  dun  cow  and  her  young  calf,"  explained 
the  Pastor  to  the  Professor,  as  Use  returned  into  the 
narrow  courtyard  with  the  maid.  "I  do  not  like 
people  to  call  animals  by  Christian  names,  so  I  have 
recourse  to  our  Latin  vocabulary." 

Use  returned.  "  It  is  time  that  the  calf  should  be 
taken  away  ;  it  is  a  wasteful  feeder." 

"That  is  what  I  said  too,"  interposed  Susannah, 
"but  his  Reverence  the  Pastor  will  not  consent." 

"You  are  right,  my  dear  child,"  answered  the 
Pastor;  "following  the  demands  of  worldly  wisdom  it 
would  be  best  to  deliver  the  little  calf  to  the  butcher. 
But  the  calf  sees  the  thing  in  quite  another  light,  and 
it  is  a  merry  little  creature." 

"  But  when  one  asks  it  why,  one  receives  no  an- 
swer," said  Use,  "and  therefore,  it  must  be  pleased 
with  what  we  choose.  Your  Reverence  must  allow  me 
to  settle  this  with  Susannah,  behind  your  back  ;  mean- 
while you  shall  have  milk  from  our  house." 

The  Pastor  conducted  them  into  his  room  ;  it  was 
very  small,  whitewashed,  and  scantily  furnished.  There 
was  an  old  writing-table,  a  black  painted  book-shelf 


AMONG    HERDS    AND    SHEAVES.  IO5 

v/ith  a  small  number  of  old  books,  a  sofa  and  some 
chairs  covered  with  colored  chintz.  "This  has  been 
my  Tusculum  for  forty  years,"  said  the  Pastor,  with 
satisfaction,  to  the  Professor,  who  looked  with  surprise 
at  the  scanty  furniture.  "  It  would  have  been  larger 
if  the  addition  had  been  made  ;  there  were  fine  plans 
arranged,  and  my  worthy  neighbor  took  much  pains 
about  it,  but  since  my  wife  was  carried  out  there" — he 
looked  toward  the  churchyard  on  the  height — "I  will 
not  hear  of  it  any  more." 

The  Professor  looked  out  of  the  window.  Forty 
years  in  this  narrow  building,  in  the  little  valley  be- 
tween the  churchyard,  the  huts,  and  the  wood  !  He 
felt  oppressed  in  spirit.  "The  community  appears 
to  be  poor ;  there  is  but  little  space  for  cultivation  be- 
tween the  hills.  But  how  is  it  pray,  in  winter  ?  " 

"Well,  even  then  I  am  still  able  to  get  about," 
answered  the  clergyman  ;  "I  visit  my  old  friends  then, 
and  am  only  troubled  sometimes  by  the  snow.  Once 
we  were  quite  snowed  up,  and  had  to  be  dug  out." 
He  laughed  pleasantly  at  the  recollection.  "It  is 
never  lonely  when  one  has  lived  many  years  in  a  place. 
One  has  known  the  grandfathers,  trained  the  fathers, 
taught  the  children,  and  here  and  there  a  grandchild 
even,  and  one  sees  how  men  rise  from  the  earth  and 
sink  down  into  it  again  like  the  leaves  that  fall  from 
a  tree.  One  observes  that  all  is  vanity  and  a  short 
preparation  for  eternity.  Dear  child,"  he  said  to 
Use,  who  now  entered,  ' '  pray  be  seated  with  us  ;  I  have 
not  seen  your  dear  face  for  three  days,  and  I  would  not 
go  up  because  I  heard  you  had  visitors.  I  have  some- 
thing here  for  you,"  taking  a  paper  out  of  his  desk; 
"  it  is  poetry." 

"You  see  the  song  of  the  Muses  does  not  fail  us," 


IO6  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

he  continued,  speaking  to  the  Professor.  "It  is,  to 
be  sure,  humble,  and  bucolic  in  style.  But  believe 
me,  as  one  who  knows  his  village,  there  are  few  new 
things  under  the  sun ;  there  is  everything  here  in  a 
small  way  that  there  is  on  a  large  scale  in  the  rest  of 
the  world ;  the  blacksmith  is  a  zealous  politician,  and 
the  justice  would  gladly  be  a  Dionysius  of  Syracuse. 
We  have  also  the  rich  man  of  Scripture,  and  truly 
many  a  Lazarus — to  which  number  the  poet  whose 
verses  I  here  hold  belongs  ;  and  our  plasterer  is  a  mu- 
sician in  winter — he  does  not  play  badly  on  the  zither. 
But  they  are  all  too  ambitious  and  not  in  harmony. 
Sometimes  it  is  difficult  to  preserve  good  fellowship 
among  them." 

"  Our  poet  wishes  to  have  his  green  wall  again,  as 
I  interpret  it,"  said  Use,  looking  up  from  the  paper. 

"For  seven  years  he  has  been  lying  in  his  room 
half  palsied  with  severe  and  incurable  ills,"  explained 
the  Pastor  to  his  guest ;  "  and  he  looks  through  a  little 
hole  of  a  window  into  the  world  at  the  clay-wall  op- 
posite and  the  men  who  can  be  seen  passing ;  the 
wall  belongs  to  a  neighbor,  and  my  dear  child  trained 
a  wild  vine  over  it.  But  this  year  our  neighbor — our 
rich  man — has  built  upon  it  and  torn  away  the  foliage. 
This  vexes  the  invalid,  and  it  is  difficult  to  help  him, 
for  now  is  not  the  time  to  plant  a  fresh  one." 

"But  something  must  be  thought  of,"  interposed 
Use.  "I  will  speak  to  him  about  it ;  excuse  me,  I 
will  not  be  long." 

She  left  the  room.  "  If  you  wish,"  said  the  Pas- 
tor, addressing  the  guest  mysteriously,  "I  will  show 
you  this  wall;  for  I  have  thought  much  about  the  mat- 
ter, but  cannot  devise  anything."  The  Professor  si- 
lently acquiesced.  They  walked  along  the  village  lane, 


AMONG    HERDS    AND    SHEAVES.  IOJ 

and  at  the  corner  the  Pastor  took  the  arm  of  his  com- 
panion. "Here  lies  the  invalid,"  be  began,  in  a  low 
tone.  "His  weakness  makes  him  rather  deaf,  but  still 
we  must  tread  gently,  that  he  may  not  observe  it,  for 
that  disturbs  him." 

The  Professor  saw  a  small  sash-window  open  and 
Use  standing  before  it,  her  back  turned  to  them. 
While  the  Pastor  was  showing  him  the  plastered  wall 
and  the  height  that  was  necessary  for  the  trailing  plant, 
he  listened  to  the  conversation  at  the  window.  Use 
spoke  loudly  and  was  answered  from  the  bed  by  a  shrill 
voice.  He  discovered  with  astonishment  that  they 
were  not  speaking  of  the  vines. 

"And  the  gentleman  is  of  a  good  disposition?" 
asked  the  voice. 

"He  is  a  learned  and  good  man,"  answered   Use. 

"And  how  long  does  he  remain  with  you?" 

"I  know  not,"  was  Use's  hesitating  reply. 

"  He  should  remain  altogether  with  you,  for  you 
like  him,"  said  the  invalid. 

"  Ah,  that  we  dare  not  hope,  dear  Benz.  But  this 
conversation  will  not  help  to  find  you  a  good  pros- 
pect," continued  Use.  "I  will  speak  to  your  neigh- 
bor ;  but  nothing  will  grow  between  to-day  and  to-mor- 
row. I  have  thought  that  the  gardener  might  nail  a 
shelf  under  the  window,  and  we  shall  place  some  plants 
from  my  room  upon  it." 

'•That  will  obstruct  the  view,"  answered  the  voice, 
discontentedly.  "  I  could  no  longer  see  the  swallows 
as  they  fly  past,  and  little  of  the  heads  of  the  people 
who  go  by." 

"  That  is  true,"  replied  Use  ;  "  but  we  will  put  the 
board  so  low  that  only  the  flowers  shall  peep  through 
the  window." 


IO8  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

"  What  kind  of  flowers  are  they  ?"  asked  Benz. 

"A  myrtle,"  said  Use. 

"That  does  not  blossom,"  answered  Benz,  surlily. 

"But  there  are  two  roses  blowing  and  a  plant  of 
heliotrope." 

"I  do  not  know  what  that  is,"  interposed  the 
invalid. 

"It  smells  very  sweet,"  said  Use. 

"Then  let  it  come,"  assented  Benz.  "But  I  must 
also  have  some  sweet  basil." 

"We  will  see  whether  it  can  be  had,"  answered 
Use ;  "  and  the  gardener  shall  also  train  some  ivy  round 
the  window." 

"  That  will  be  too  dark  for  me,"  retorted  the  dis- 
satisfied Benz. 

"  Never  mind,"  said  Use,  decidedly  ;  "  we  will  try, 
and  if  it  does  not  suit  you,  it  can  be  altered." 

To  this  the  invalid  agreed. 

"But  the  gardener  must  not  make  me  wait,"  he 
exclaimed  ;  "  I  should  like  to  have  it  to-morrow." 

"Very  well,"  said  Use  ;  "early  in  the  morning." 

"  And  you  will  show  my  verses  to  no  one,  not  even 
to  the  strange  gentleman  ;  they  are  only  for  you." 

"Nobody  shall  see  them,"  said  Use.  "Call  your 
daughter  Anna,  dear  Benz." 

As  she  prepared  to  depart,  the  Pastor  gently  drew 
his  guest  back. 

"When  the  invalid  has  had  such  a  conversation," 
he  explained,  "he  is  contented  for  the  whole  of  the 
next  day,  and  to-morrow  he  will  again  compose  some 
verses.  Sometimes — between  you  and  me — he  writes 
a  good  deal  of  nonsense,  but  it  is  well  meant,  and  for 
him  it  is  the  best  pastime.  The  people  in  the  village 
avoid  passing  under  his  window  as  much  as  possible. 


AMONG    HERDS    AND    SHEAVES.  log 

This  is  the  hardest  work  in  my  office  ;  for  the  people 
are  obstinate  in  the  superstition  that  illness  and 
suffering  originate  from  evil  spirits,  that  they  are  in- 
flicted from  hatred,  or  as  punishment  for  past  wrong  ; 
and  though  I  preach  to  them  incessantly  that  all  is 
only  a  trial  for  the  other  world,  this  teaching  is  too 
high  for  them,  only  the  infirm  believe  it ;  but  those 
who  are  hale  and  hearty  stubbornly  struggle  against 
the  truth  and  salvation." 

The  learned  man  turned  his  eyes  up  to  the  little 
window  from  which  the  invalid  looked  upon  the  plas- 
tered wall,  and  then  again  on  the  clerical  gentleman 
who  for  forty  years  had  preached  the  Holy  Gospel  in 
the  valley.  His  heart  was  heavy  and  his  eyes  passed 
from  the  twilight  of  the  deep  vale  to  the  hill-top,  which 
still  shone  in  the  glad  light  of  the  evening  sun.  Then 
she  returned  to  him,  she  who  had  descended  to  watch 
over  the  helpless  and  the  poor  ;  and  when  he  ascended 
the  height  with  her,  it  appeared  to  him  as  if  they  both 
emerged  from  gloomy  earthly  trouble  into  a  lighter 
air ;  but  the  youthful  figure  and  the  beautiful,  calm 
countenance  near  him,  shining  in  the  lingering  evening 
light  so  wondrously,  seemed  to  resemble  one  of  those 
messengers  whom  Jehovah  sent  to  the  tent  of  his  faith- 
ful servant.  He  rejoiced  when  she  laughed  at  the 
joyous  bounding  of  the  dog,  who  came  barking  toward 
them. 

Thus  passed  another  day,  lighted  up  by  the  sun, 
and  overshadowed  by  the  clouds,  amidst  small  events 
of  daily  life  and  quiet  existence.  When  recorded  by 
the  pen  it  seems  insignificant,  but  when  a  man  lives 
it,  it  sends  his  blood  coursing  energetically  through 
his  veins. 


IIO  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 


CHAPTER  VI. 
A  LEARNED  LADY  FROM  THE  COUNTRY. 

It  was  Sunday,  and  the  estate  wore  its  festive  gar- 
ment. The  barns  in  the  farmyard  were  closed,  the  farm 
servants  and  maids  walked  about  in  their  best  attire, 
not  like  busy  laborers,  but  with  the  comfortable  leisure 
which  is  the  poetry  of  a  toilsome  life  to  the  German 
peasant.  The  bells  from  the  church  tower  called  to 
service ;  Use,  with  her  hymn-book  in  her  hand,  went 
with  her  sister  slowly  down  the  hill,  the  maids  and 
men  followed  in  small  groups.  The  Proprietor  passed 
the  day  in  his  study,  in  order  to  make  up  the  accounts 
of  the  past  week  ;  but  first  he  knocked  at  the  door  of 
his  friends'  room,  and  paid  them  a  short  morning  visit. 

"  We  shall  have  guests  to-day,  the  Crown  Inspec- 
tor Rollmaus  and  his  wife ;  he  is  an  excellent  farmer ; 
but  his  wife  is  irredeemably  bent  upon  culture, — a  par- 
agon of  learning.  You  must  take  care,  she  will  press 
you  hard." 

As  the  clock  struck  twelve,  a  carriage  drawn  by  two 
well-fed  brown  horses  stopped  at  the  door ;  the  chil- 
dren hastened  to  the  window. 

"The  Crown  Inspector's  wife  is  coming!"  ex- 
claimed the  youngest,  excitedly. 

A  stout  man  in  a  dark  green  coat  got  out  of  the 
carriage,  followed  by  a  little  lady  in  black  silk,  with 
a  sunshade  and  a  large  bandbox.  The  Proprietor  and 
Use  met  them  at  the  door  of  the  house  ,  the  host  laugh- 


A  LEARNED  LADY  FROM  THE  COUNTRY.      II  i 

ingly  called  out  a  welcome,  and  conducted  the  gentle- 
man to  the  sitting-room.  The  guest  had  black  hair 
and  a  round  face,  which  by  exposure  to  the  sun  and 
air  had  acquired  a  permanent  tint  of  reddish  brown. 

He  had  piercing  eyes,  red  nose  and  red  lips.  Learn- 
ing the  names  of  the  two  strangers  he  made  a  slight 
obeisance,  but  looked  displeased  at  their  appearing  in 
pretentious  black  coats ;  and  as  he  had  a  vague  but 
strong  aversion  to  useless  authors,  needy  scholars,  and 
non-producers  of  all  sorts  who  visited  the  country  to 
write  books,  or  because  they  had  no  permanent  re- 
sidence of  their  own,  he  assumed  toward  both  these 
gentlemen  a  sulky  and  suspicious  demeanor.  After  a 
while  the  lady  made  her  appearance.  She  had  in  the 
mean  time,  with  Use's  help  put  on  her  best  cap,  which 
had  been  taken  out  of  the  bandbox  ;  a  work  of  art, 
upon  which  were  set  two  dark  red  roses.  She  entered 
the  room,  rustling,  curtsying,  and  laughing,  polished 
from  head  to  foot.  She  passed  rapidly  from  one  to  an- 
other, kissed  the  girls,  declared  to  the  boys  that  they 
had  grown  much  during  the  last  week,  and  at  last 
stopped,  full  of  expectation,  before  the  two  strangers. 
The  host  presented  them,  and  did  not  fail  to  add  : 
"Two  gentlemen  from  the  University." 

The  little  lady  pricked  up  her  ears,  and  her  gray 
eyes  sparkled. 

"  From  the  University  !"  she  exclaimed  ;  "  what  a 
surprise.  These  gentlemen  are  rare  guests  in  our  coun- 
try. There  is  indeed  little  inducement  to  learned 
gentlemen  to  come  among  us,  for  materialism  reigns 
supreme  here,  and  the  circulating  library  at  Rossau 
is  certainly  not  in  good  hands  ;  actually  they  never  get 
anything  new.  May  I  be  allowed  to  ask  what  are  the 


112  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

studies  of  the  gentlemen,  whether  science  generally 
or  some  particular  specialty  ?  " 

"  My  friend's  studies  are  more  of  a  general  char- 
acter. I  have  a  specialty,  and  in  addition  to  it,  I 
teach  the  classics,"  replied  the  Professor;  "this  gen- 
tleman is  also  engaged  in  Indian  research." 

"Pray  be  seated  on  the  sofa ?"  interposed  Use. 
Mrs.  Rollmaus  followed  her  reluctantly. 

"  Indian  !  "  she  exclaimed,  seating  herself  and  ar- 
ranging her  dress.  "  That  is  a  strange  language. 
They  wear  tufts  of  feathers  and  their  dress  is  scanty, 
and  their  trousers,  if  I  may  be  pardoned  the  reference, 
hang  down  as  is  the  case  with  so  many  pigeons,  which 
also  have  long  feathers  to  their  legs.  One  sees  pictures 
of  them  sometimes ;  in  my  Karl's  picture-book  of 
last  Christmas  there  are  a  great  many  pictures  of  these 
wild  men.  They  have  barbarous  customs,  dear  Use." 

"  But  why  has  not  Karl  come  with  you  ?  "  inquired 
Use,  in  an  effort  to  rescue  the  gentlemen  from  the  dis- 
course. . 

"It  was  because  we  shall  have  to  return  in  the 
dark.  Our  carriage  has  only  two  seats,  and  there  would 
have  been  no  room  to  pack  in  a  third  with  Rollmaus, 
so  Karl  would  have  had  to  sit  by  the  coachman,  and 
the  poor  child  would  be  so  sleepy  at  night  that  I  should 
have  been  afraid  of  his  falling  off.  And  then  there  are 
his  lessons  for  to-morrow — for  only  think,  I  have  per- 
suaded Rollmaus  to  take  a  tutor  for  our  children,  as 
your  dear  father  has  done." 

When  the  lady  intimated  the  prospect  of  a  return 
home  after  dark,  the  Doctor  looked  compassionately 
at  his  friend  ;  but  the  Professor  was  listening  so  atten- 
tively to  the  conversation  that  he  did  not  observe  this 
expression  of  commiseration.  Use  continued  to  ask 


A  LEARNED  LADY  FROM  THE  COUNTRY.      113 

questions  and  Mrs.  Rollmaus  always  answered,  al- 
though sometimes  she  cast  a  longing  look  at  the  Doc- 
tor, whose  connection  with  the  Indians  in  Karl's  pic- 
ture book  appeared  to  her  very  instructive.  Mean- 
while, the  two  country  gentlemen  had  become  engaged 
in  conversation  with  regard  to  the  merits  of  a  horse 
in  the  neighborhood,  which  had  been  recommended  for 
general  purposes,  so  that  the  Doctor  at  last  turned  to 
the  children  and  began  to  chat  with  Clara  and  Louise. 

After  half  an  hour  of  quiet  preparation,  the  maid- 
servant appeared  at  the  door  of  the  dining  room. 
The  Proprietor  gallantly  offered  his  arm  to  Mrs.  Roll- 
maus and  escorted  her  to  the  table.  The  Professor 
conducted  Use,  and  the  Doctor  attempted  to  take  her 
sister  Clara,  but  she  blushed  and  resisted  till  he  gave 
his  other  arm  to  Louise  and  Rickchen,  whereupon 
Franz  laid  hold  of  his  coat-tails  and  on  the  way  whis- 
pered to  him  :  "We  have  turkey  to-day. "  But  Mr. 
Rollmaus,  who  regarded  attendance  upon  ladies  a 
wearisome  custom  brought  up  the  rear  alone,  greeting, 
as  he  passed,  the  farm  officials,  who  were  standing  in 
the  dining-room,  with  the  query  : 

"  Is  all  the  corn  in  yet  ?" 

To  which  the  Inspector  replied  with  emphasis  that 
it  was. 

Again  all  took  their  places  according  to  rank  and 
dignity.  Mrs.  Rollmaus  had  the  place  of  honor,  and 
between  her  and  Use  sat  the  Professor. 

It  was  not  a  quiet  meal  for  the  latter.  Use  was 
more  silent  than  usual,  but  his  new  neighbor  plied 
him  with  learned  questions.  She  obliged  him  to  tell 
her  the  regulations  of  the  University,  and  in  what  man- 
ner the  students  were  instructed.  And  the  Professor 
informed  her  fully,  and  did  so  good-humoredly.  But 


THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 


he  did  not  long  succeed  in  protecting  either  himself 
or  others  against  the  feeling  of  annoyance  which  the 
conversation  of  Mrs.  Rollmaus  always  occasioned. 

"  So  you  are  a  philosopher?"  she  said.  "That  is 
indeed  interesting.  I  also  have  attempted  philoso- 
phy; but  the  style  is  so.  incomprehensible.  Pray, 
what  is  the  purpose  of  philosophy  ?" 

"  It  endeavors,"  was  the  patient  answer  of  the 
Professor  to  this  perplexing  question,  "to  instruct 
men  in  the  life  of  their  mind  and  spirit,  and  thus  to 
strengthen  and  improve  them." 

"  The  life  of  the  spirit  !"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Rollmaus, 
excitedly  ;  "but  do  you  too  believe  that  spirits  can  ap- 
pear to  men  after  death?" 

"Why,  do  you  know  any  instance  where  that  has 
happened  ?"  asked  the  Professor.  "  It  would  be  in- 
teresting to  all  to  hear  the  exact  details.  Has  any- 
thing of  the  kind  occurred  hereabouts  ?" 

"So  far  as  ghosts  and  spirits  are  concerned,  No," 
replied  Mrs.  Rollmaus,  looking  doubtfully  at  the  Pro- 
prietor ;  "but  of  second  sight,  and  what  is  called  sym- 
pathy a  great  deal.  Only  think,  we  once  had  a  ser- 
vant ;  she  was  not  obliged  to  live  out,  but  her  parents 
wished  to  send  her  away  from  home  for  a  time  ;  for 
there  was  in  the  village  a  poor  lad  who  was  a  great 
fiddler  and  who  strolled  round  her  house  morning  and 
evening,  and  when  the  girl  could  come,  they  sat  to- 
gether behind  a  bush  —  he  playing  on  the  fiddle  and 
she  listening.  And  she  could  not  part  from  him.  She 
was  a  nice  girl,  and  adapted  herself  to  everything  in 
our  house,  only  she  was  always  melancholy.  The  fid- 
dler was  impressed  as  a  hussar,  for  which  he  was  fitted 
because  he  was  very  courageous.  After  a  year  the  cook 
came  to  me  and  said  :  '  Mrs.  Rollmaus,  I  cannot 


A  LEARNED  LADY  FROM  THE  COUNTRY.      115 

stand  it  any  longer,  Hetty  walks  in  her  sleep.  She 
gets  out  of  bed  and  sings  the  song  about  a  soldier 
whom  a  captain  caused  to  be  shot,  because  he  was 
ordered  to  do  so,  and  then  she  groans  so  that  it  would 
move  a  stone,  and  in  the  morning  she  knows  nothing 
about  her  singing,  but  always  continues  to  weep.' 
And  this  was  the  truth.  I  called  her,  and  asked  her 
seriously;  'What  is  the  matter  with  you?  I  cannot 
bear  this  mysterious  conduct,  you  are  a  riddle  to  me.' 
Whereupon  she  lamented  much,  and  begged  me  not 
to  think  ill  of  her,  as  she  was  an  honorable  girl ;  but 
she  had  seen  an  apparition.  And  then  she  told  me 
the  whole  story.  Her  Gottlob  had  appeared  at  the 
door  of  her  room  in  the  night,  quite  haggard  and  sor- 
rowful, and  had  said  :  '  Hetty,  it  is  all  over  with  me ; 
to-morrow  it  is  my  turn.'  I  tried  to  persuade  the  girl 
out  of  it,  but  her  fears  infected  me.  I  wrote  to  an 
officer  whose  acquaintance  my  husband  had  made  at 
the  hunt,  and  asked  whether  it  was  nonsense,  or 
whether  it  was  due  to  the  so-called  second-sight.  And 
he  wrote  back  to  me  very  much  astonished.  It  was 
a  true  case  of  second-sight,  for  on  the  same  day  the 
fiddler  had  fallen  from  his  horse  and  broken  his  leg, 
and  then  lay  in  the  hospital  at  the  point  of  death. 
Now,  I  pray  you,  was  not  that  a  real  natural  phenom- 
enon ?" 

''And  what  became  of  the  poor  people?"  asked 
the  Professor. 

"  O,  as  for  them,"  answered  Mrs.  Rollmaus,  "it 
all  came  right ;  for  a  comrade  of  the  invalid,  who  had 
a  sick  mother,  was  from  our  village.  I  wrote  to  him 
requesting  him  to  send  me  a  letter  every  third  day  to 
report  how  the  invalid  was  getting  on,  and  added  that 
I  would  repay  him  by  sending  his  mother  bacon  and 


Il6  THE    LOST   MANUSCRIPT. 

flour.  He  wrote  regularly  ;  and  the  affair  lasted  many 
weeks.  At  last  the  fiddler  was  cured  and  came  back ; 
and  both  were  white  as  a  sheet  when  they  met,  and  em- 
braced each  other  before  my  eyes  without  hesitation  ; 
whereupon  I  spoke  to  the  parents  of  the  girl,  which 
was  of  little  avail.  Then  I  spoke  to  my  husband,  to 
whom  our  village  inn  belongs,  and  who  was  then  look- 
ing out  for  a  good  tenant.  And  that  brought  the  his- 
tory to  a  close,  or,  as  the  saying  goes,  to  the  commence- 
ment du pain.  For  Mr.  Rollmaus  is  not  a  lover  of  fiddles 
and  thinks  them  instruments  of  frivolity.  But  the 
people  behave  in  an  orderly  way.  I  was  the  sponsor 
of  their  first  child  and  Rollmaus  of  the  second.  But 
there  have  been  no  more  apparitions." 

"That  was  indeed  good  and  kind  of  you,"  ex- 
claimed the  Professor,  warmly. 

"We  are  all  human,"  said  Mrs.  Rollmaus,  apol- 
ogetically. 

"And  I  hope,  all  good,"  replied  the  Professor. 
"Believe  me,  madame,  though  there  are  many  and 
various  views  in  philosophy  and  in  every  branch  of 
learning,  and  much  contention  respecting  many  points, 
and  though  one  is  easily  led  and  tempted  to  consider 
another  ignorant;  yet  with  respect  to  honesty,  up- 
rightness, and  benevolence,  there  has  seldom  been 
any  difference  of  opinion,  and  all  delight  in  and  esteem 
those  in  whom  they  find  these  qualities.  And  it  is  these 
qualities,  Mrs.  Rollmaus,  I  now  find  and  honor  in  you. " 

This  he  said  to  the  learned  lady  with  much  warmth 
and  earnestness.  On  his  other  side  he  heard  the  gen- 
tle rustling  of  a  dress,  and  when  he  turned  to  Use  he 
met  a  look  so  full  of  humble  gratitude  that  he  could 
hardly  preserve  his  composure. 

Mrs.    Rollmaus,    however,   sat   smiling  and   con- 


A  LEARNED  LADY  FROM  THE  COUNTRY.      117 

tented  with  the  philosophical  system  of  her  neighbor. 
Again  the  Professor  turned  to  her,  and  spoke  of  the 
difficulty  of  doing  good  to  the  helpless  in  the  right 
way.  Mrs.  Rollmaus  acknowledged  that  uneducated 
people  had  a  way  of  their  own,  "  But  one  can  easily 
get  on  with  them,  if  they  only  know  that  one  means 
well  by  them." 

The  Professor  afterward  occasioned  a  slight  mis- 
understanding, when  in  answer  he  respectfully  ob- 
served :  "You  are  right,  for  in  this  field  patient  love  is 
requisite  to  produce  fruitful  results." 

"  Yes, "  acquiesced  Mrs.  Rollmaus,  puzzled,  "to 
be  sure,  these  results  which  you  mention  are  not  want- 
ing among  us,  and  they  marry  for  the  most  part  just 
at  the  right  time  ;  but  the  patient  love  which  you  so 
truly  speak  of  as  requisite  is  not  always  forthcoming 
among  our  country  people,  for  in  marriage  they  fre- 
quently consider  money  more  than  love." 

If,  however, the  notes  in  the  concert  at  the  upper 
table  were  not  quite  in  accord,  yet  the  turkey  and 
custard -pudding— a  masterpiece  of  Use's  kitchen— 
vanished  without  any  adverse  concussion  of  learned 
wisdom.  All  rose  well  pleased  with  one  another,  only 
the  children,  whose  innocent  mischief  is  most  endur- 
ing, found  with  displeasure  that  Mrs.  Rollmaus  would 
not  on  this  occasion  enter  into  any  contest  in  which 
the  encyclopedia  could  rule  as  umpire.  While  the 
men  drank  their  coffee  in  the  next  room,  Mrs.  Roll- 
maus again  sat  on  the  sofa,  and  Use  had  a  difficult  task 
to  satisfy  her  curiosity  in  answering  all  the  questions 
with  which  she  was  overwhelmed  concerning  the  two 
strangers.  Meanwhile  the  children  besieged  the  sofa, 
lying  in  wait  for  an  opportunity  to  undertake  a  small 
campaign  against  the  unsuspecting  Mrs.  Rollmaus. 


Il8  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

"  So  they  are  making  researches,  and  in  our  neigh- 
borhood. It  cannot  be  about  the  Indians.  I  did  not 
know  that  any  had  ever  come  to  these  parts.  It  must 
be  a  mistake;  and  they  must  mean  gypsies,  who  do  make 
their  appearance  here.  Only  think,  dear  Use,  a  man 
and  two  women,  each  with  a  child,  have  come  within 
the  last  fortnight.  The  women  tell  fortunes.  What 
they  have  prophesied  to  the  house- maids  is  truly  re- 
markable ;  and  in  the  morning  two  hens  disappeared. 
Can  it  be  that  their  researches  are  concerning  these 
gypsies?  But  that  I  cannot  believe,  as  they  are  mere 
tinkers  and  good-for-nothing  people.  No,  they  are 
not  making  investigations  concerning  them." 

"  But  who  are  the  gypsies  ?"  asked  Clara. 

"  Dear  child,  they  are  vagabonds  who  formerly 
were  a  nation,  and  now  spread  themselves  everywhere. 
They  had  a  king,  and  manuscripts,  and  hounds,  al- 
though they  were  great  rogues.  Originally  they  were 
Egyptians,  but  possibly  also  Indians." 

"  How  could  they  be  Indians?"  exclaimed  Hans, 
disrespectfully;  "the  Indians  live  in  America.  We 
have  got  an  encyclopedia  too,  and  we  will  find  it  out 
immediately." 

"  Yes,  yes,"  cried  the  children,  and  ran  with  their 
brother  to  the  book-shelf.  Each  of  them  brought  a 
volume  with  new  binding,  and  placed  it  among  the 
coffee  cups  before  Mrs.  Rollmaus,  who  looked  by  no 
means  pleased  at  seeing  the  secret  source  of  her  intel- 
ligence laid  bare  before  all  eyes. 

"  And  ours  is  newer  than  yours,"  cried  little  Franz, 
waving  his  hand.  In  vain  did  Use  endeavor  by  signs 
of  disapprobation  to  suppress  this  outbreak  of  family 
pride.  Hans  held  the  volume  firmly  in  his  hands  seek- 
ing the  word  Gypsy,  and  the  overthrow  of  Mrs.  Roll- 


A  LEARNED  LADY  FROM  THE  COUNTRY.      IIQ 

maus,  to  all  human  calculations,  could  no  longer  be 
averted.  But  suddenly  Hans  jumped  up,  and  hold- 
ing the  book  aloft  exclaimed  :  "  The  Professor  is  put 
down  here  !" 

"Our  Professor  in  the  encyclopedia?"  cried  the 
children. 

Family  feuds  and  gypsies  were  all  forgotten.  Use 
took  the  book  from  her  brother's  hand,  Mrs.  Rollmaus 
stood  up  in  order  to  read  the  remarkable  passage  over 
Use's  shoulder,  all  the  children's  heads  gathered  round 
the  book,  so  that  they  looked  like  a  cluster  of  buds  on 
a  fruit  tree,  and  all  peeped  curiously  at  the  lines  which 
were  so  glorious  for  their  guest  and  themselves. 

In  the  article  there  were  the  usual  short  remarks 
that  are  generally  made  of  living  scholars,  which  con- 
tained the  place  and  day  of  the  Professor's  birth,  and 
the  titles — mostly  in  Latin — of  his  works.  All  these 
titles  were,  in  spite  of  the  unintelligible  language,  read 
aloud,  with  the  dates  and  size  of  the  volumes.  Use 
looked  into  the  book  for  a  long  time,  and  then  handed 
it  to  the  astonished  Mrs.  Rollmaus,  then  the  children 
passed  it  from  one  to  the  other.  The  event  made  a 
greater  impression  here,  on  both  young  and  old,  than 
it  ever  could  in  literary  circles.  Happiest  of  all  was 
Mrs.  Rollmaus  :  she  had  sat  next  to  a  man  who  not 
only  could  refer  to  books,  but  was  referred  to  himself. 
Her  admiration  of  him  was  unbounded  ;  she  found,  for 
the  first  time  in  her  life,  that  she  could  hold  agreeable 
intercourse  with  a  man  of  this  stamp. 

"What  a  distinguished  scholar  !"  she  exclaimed. 
"  What  were  the  titles  of  his  works,  dear  Use?" 

Use  did  not  know  ;  her  eyes  and  thoughts  were 
fixed  on  the  short  notice  of  his  life. 

This  discovery  had  the  good  result  of  causing  Mrs. 


I2O  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

Rollmaus  to  lay  down  her  weapons  entirely  this  day, 
and  be  content  not  to  display  any  knowledge,  for  she 
saw  that  on  this  occasion  a  competition  with  the  fam- 
ily was  impossible,  and  she  condescended  to  an  un- 
pretending conversation  about  household  events.  But 
the  children  arranged  themselves  at  a  respectful  dis- 
tance from  the  Professor,  and  examined  him  curiously 
once  more  from  top  to  toe  ;  and  Hans  imparted  the 
news  in  a  low  voice  to  the  Doctor,  and  was  much  sur- 
prised that  the  latter  thought  nothing  of  it. 

After  coffee,  the  Proprietor  proposed  to  his  guests 
to  ascend  the  nearest  hill,  in  order  to  examine  the 
damage  which  had  been  done  by  the  lightning.  Use 
loaded  a  maid  with  provisions  for  supper  and  some 
flasks  of  wine,  and  the  party  started.  They  went  down 
from  the  rock  into  the  valley,  over  the  strip  of  meadow 
and  the  brook,  then  up  the  hill,  through  underbrush, 
amid  the  shadow  of  the  lofty  pines.  The  rain  had  washed 
away  the  steep  path,  and  irregular  water-channels 
furrowed  the  gravel ;  nevertheless,  the  women  stepped 
valiantly  over  the  wet  places.  But  if  it  had  been  pos- 
sible to  fail  to  perceive  from  the  dress  and  bearing  of 
the  Professor  that  he  walked  in  the  confidence  of  man- 
hood, one  might  have  imagined  that  he  was  a  deli- 
cately clad  lady,  and  Mrs.  Rollmaus  a  gentleman  in 
disguise,  for  she  hovered  round  him  reverently,  and 
would  not  leave  his  side.  She  directed  his  attention 
to  the  stones,  and,  with  the  end  of  her  umbrella  pointed 
out  the  dry  places  to  him,  and  stopped  at  times,  ex- 
pressing her  fear  that  he  would  find  this  jaunt  too 
fatiguing.  The  Professor  submitted,  though  much  sur- 
prised, to  the  homage  of  the  little  lady,  sometimes  look- 
ing enquiringly  at  Use,  over  whose  face  flitted  a  roguish 
smile.  On  the  height  the  path  became  easier,  and 


A  LEARNED  LADY  FROM  THE  COUNTRY.      121 

some  trees  of  lighter  foliage  varied  the  dark  green  of 
the  pines.  The  summit  itself  was  clear  ;  the  heather, 
on  which  the  fading  blossoms  of  the  year  still  hung, 
spread  itself  thickly  among  the  stones.  On  all  sides 
lay  the  view  of  the  landscape,  with  its  heights  and 
valleys,  the  deep  glen,  and  brook  with  its  green  border, 
the  fields  and  the  valley  of  Rossau.  In  the  direction  of 
the  setting  sun  there  rose,  one  behind  another,  long 
waves  of  undulating  ground,  tinted  with  the  purple 
hue  of  twilight,  passing  off  into  the  delicate  gray  of 
the  mountains  on  the  horizon.  It  was  a  delightful  pros- 
pect, under  a  clear  sky  in  the  midst  of  pure  mountain 
air,  and  the  party  sought  out  the  softest  and  greenest 
spots  of  the  heal  her,  whereon  to  rest. 

After  a  short  stay,  they  proceeded,  led  by  Hans,  to 
the  spot  where  the  tree  had  been  struck  by  lightning. 
A  belt  of  high  fir  trees  was  the  place  of  the  devastation. 
A  strong,  vigorous  pine  had  been  struck  and  pros- 
trated ;  in  desolate  confusion  the  branches  and  gigan- 
tic splinters  of  the  white  wood  lay  around  the  broken 
trunk,  which,  blackened  and  cloven,  without  its  top, 
still  rose  out  of  its  ruins  as  high  as  a  house.  Through 
the  mass  of  branches  on  the  ground,  it  could  be 
seen  that  the  earth  also  had  been  torn  up  even  under 
the  roots  of  the  neighboring  trees.  The  older  members 
of  the  party  looked  earnestly  on  the  spot  where  one 
moment  had  turned  vigorous  life  into  frightful  de- 
formity ;  but  the  children  pressed  on  into  the  thicket 
shouting,  seized  upon  the  scaly  cones  of  the  past  year, 
and  cut  branches  from  the  tree-top,  each  endeavoring 
to  carry  off  the  largest  clusters  of  the  scaly  fruit. 

"  It  is  only  one  of  a  hundred,"  said  the  Proprietor, 
gloomily;  "  but  it  is  painful  to  contemplate  such  de- 
vastation, contrary  to  the  usual  order  of  the  world,  and 


122  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

to  think  of  the  destruction  that  impended  over  our 
heads." 

"Does  this  recollection  cause  you  only  discom- 
fort ?"  asked  the  Professor  ;  "  is  it  not  also  exalting  ?" 

"  The  horns  of  the  ram  are  hanging  on  the 
branches,"  said  Use,  in  a  low  tone,  to  her  father  ;  "he 
was  the  sacrifice  by  which  we  were  saved." 

"  I  think,"  added  the  Professor,  "  that  even  a  per- 
son thus  struck  by  lightning  might,  if  time  were  left  him 
for  a  last  thought,  say  to  himself  that  this  was  quite  in 
harmony  with  the  order  of  our  world.  We  soon  forget, 
amid  the  comforts  of  daily  life,  what  we  should  always 
vividly  bear  in  mind,  that  we  only  live,  like  all  other 
creatures,  subject  to  certain  conditions.  Countless 
forces  and  strange  powers  unceasingly  work  accord- 
ing to  fixed  laws  of  their  own,  maintaining,  support- 
ing, or  injuring  our  life.  The  cold  which  checks  the 
course  of  our  blood,  the  breaking  waves  in  which  the 
human  body  sinks,  the  injurious  vapors  from  the  earth 
which  poison  our  breath,  are  no  accidental  phenomena ; 
the  laws  by  which  they  act  upon  us  are  as  primitive  and 
holy  as  our  need  of  food  and  drink,  of  sleep  and  light ; 
and  when  a  man  reflects  upon  his  position  among  the 
powers  of  earth,  his  life  will  be  found  to  mean  nothing 
else  than  an  active  struggle  against  them  and  an  en- 
deavor to  understand  them.  Whoever  may  provide 
the  bread  that  nourishes  us,  and  whoever  may  hew 
the  wood  that  warms  us — every  useful  activity  has 
no  other  purpose  than,  by  subduing  and  wisely  util- 
izing these  forces,  to  strengthen  and  to  protect  us. 
In  this  work  we  also  observe  that  there  is  a  secret 
union  between  every  movement  of  nature  and  our  own 
minds,  and  that  all  living  things,  however  adverse  in 
individual  existence,  together  form  one  vast  and  con- 


A  LEARNED  LADY  FROM  THE  COUNTRY.      123 

tinuous  unity.  The  presentiment  and  thought  of  this 
unity  have,  at  all  times,  been  the  most  sublime  feeling 
of  which  man  is  capable.  From  this  proceeds  an- 
other impulse,  an  overwhelming  desire  and  an  irresist- 
ible longing  to  divine  the  deeper  relations  of  these 
forces.  And  it  is  this  that  gives  us  faith.  The 
method  of  procedure  may  vary  in  different  in- 
dividuals, but  the  goal  is  the  same.  Some,  pos- 
sessed of  deep  feeling,  see  only  eternal  wisdom  in 
everything  that  to  them  seems  incomprehensible ;  and 
in  child-like  faith  they  apply  to  it  the  most  reverent 
and  affectionate  name.  Others  earnestly  endeavor  to 
observe  the  various  laws  and  forces  of  nature  and  re- 
verently to  comprehend  their  relations  to  each  other. 
These  latter  are  the  men  of  science.  The  men  of 
faith  and  the  men  of  science  essentially  do  the  same 
thing.  Their  attitude  is  very  modest ;  for  both  recog- 
nize that  all  individual  life,  both  subjective  and  ob- 
jective, is  very  insignificant  as  compared  with  the  great 
All.  And  the  man  who,  when  thus  overtaken  by  death, 
could  confidently  believe  he  is  going  to  his  Father  in 
Heaven,  and  the  man  who  in  a  similar  moment  could 
bring  himself  to  intently  observe  the  manner  in  which 
the  nervous  elements  that  constitute  his  life  cease 
their  activity — both  are  assured  of,  and  both  would 
experience,  an  end  of  bliss  and  true  contentment." 

Thus  spoke  the  Professor  as  they  stood  before  the 
shattered  pine-tree.  The  Crown-Inspector  looked  at 
the  speaker  in  astonishment,  suspecting  him  to  be  one 
of  that  new  class  of  apostles  who  at  that  time  made 
their  appearance  in  various  parts,  and  traveled  around 
the  country  preaching  to  the  people.  Mrs.  Rollmaus 
stood  reverently  with  folded  hands,  occasionally  nod- 


124  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

ding  her  assent.  Presently  she  nudged  the  Proprietor, 
whispering  : 

"  That  belongs  to  the  philosophy  of  which  we 
were  speaking." 

The  Proprietor  did  not  answer,  but  listened  with 
bowed  head.  Use  never  turned  her  eyes  from  the 
speaker ;  his  observations  sounded  strange,  and  excited 
a  secret  uneasiness  in  her,  she  knew  not  why.  But  she 
could  say  nothing  against  them,  for  the  spring  of  genial 
life  that  issued  from  this  noble  soul  entranced  her. 
The  choice  of  words,  the  new  thoughts,  the  noble  ex- 
pression of  his  countenance,  captivated  her  irresistibly. 

The  party  returned  to  their  resting  place  on  the 
height ;  the  sun  sank  behind  the  hills,  and  the  soft 
evening  glow  gilded  first  the  tips  of  the  heather,  and 
then  rose  above  their  heads  to  the  tops  of  the  trees ; 
purple  shadows  covered  the  ground,  the  trunks  of  the 
trees,  and  the  distant  prospect.  But  small  light  clouds 
of  gold  and  purple  floated  in  the  heaven  above,  till 
there  also  the  glowing  colors  faded  into  rosy  twilight ; 
the  mist  rose  from  the  depths  below,  and  the  colors 
of  the  earth  and  the  heavens  died  away  into  a  uniform 
gray. 

Long  did  the  party  gaze  on  the  changing  lights  of 
the  evening.  At  last  the  Proprietor  called  for  the  con- 
tents of  the  basket :  the  children  were  busy  unpacking 
and  passing  the  cold  meats  to  the  assembled  circle. 
The  Proprietor  poured  out  the  wine  and  pledged  his 
guests,  and  rejoiced  in  the  fine  evening.  At  a  sign  from 
his  father,  Hans  ran  into  the  thicket  and  fetched  some 
pine  torches. 

"There  is  no  danger  to-day,"  said  the  Proprietor 
to  Mr.  Rollmaus  whilst  lighting  the  torches. 

The  children  pressed  forward  to  be  torch-bearers, 


A  LEARNED  LADY  FROM  THE  COUNTRY.      125 

but  only  Hans  was  trusted  with  this  honorable  office ; 
the  gentlemen  carried  the  others. 

Slowly  did  the  procession  wind  down  the  hill-path  ; 
the  torches  threw  a  glaring  light  on  copse  and  stones, 
and  on  the  faces  of  the  men,  which  in  the  curves  of  the 
road  were  lighted  up  with  a  glow  like  the  rising  moon, 
and  again  disappeared  in  the  darkness.  Mrs.  Roll- 
maus  had  endeavored  several  times  to  draw  the  other 
illustrious  stranger  into  conversation ;  she  now  at  last 
succeeded,  when  in  a  bad  part  of  the  road.  She  began  : 

''What  your  friend  said  was  very  good,  for  it  was 
very  instructive.  He  is  right ;  one  ought  to  struggle 
against  the  powers  and  seek  the  connecting  link.  Bat 
I  assure  you  it  is  difficult  for  a  woman.  For  Rollmaus, 
who  is  the  first  power  of  nature  for  me,  has  a  hatred 
of  principles  ;  he  is  always  for  doing  everything  accord- 
ing to  his  own  ideas,  and,  as  an  independent  man,  he 
has  a  right  to  do  so  ;  but  he  is  not  very  much  in  favor 
of  science,  and  even  as  regards  a  piano  for  the  chil- 
dren I  have  trouble  with  him.  But  I  seek  after  prin- 
ciples and  powers,  and  what  is  called  the  connecting 
link  ;  and  I  read  what  I  can,  for  one  likes  to  know 
what  is  going  on  in  the  world,  and  to  raise  oneself 
above  ordinary  people.  But  often  one  does  not  under- 
stand a  thing  even  when  read  twice  ;  and  when  it  is  at 
last  understood  it  may  have  become  obsolete  and  no 
longer  worth  anything,  and  so  I  have  often  been 
tempted  to  give  up  all  research  whatsoever." 

"  You  should  not  do  that,"  exclaimed  the  Doctor  ; 
"there  is  always  a  secret  satisfaction  in  knowing  a 
thing." 

"  If  I  lived  in  town,"  continued  the  lady,  "I  would 
devote  myself  entirely  to  learning  ;  but  in  the  country 
one  is  too  much  isolated,  and  there  is  the  housekeep- 


126  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

ing,  and  one's  husband,  who  is  sometimes  hard  to 
please.  You  have  no  idea  what  a  good  farmer  he 
is.  Rollmaus,  hold  your  torch  aside,  all  the  smoke 
blows  in  the  Doctor's  face." 

Rollmaus  turned  his  torch  away  and  grumbled. 
His  wife  drew  close  to  him,  seized  his  arm  and  whis- 
pered to  him  :  "  Before  we  go  away  you  must  invite 
the  gentlemen  to  visit  us  ;  it  is  the  right  thing  to  do." 

"He  is  a  mendicant  priest,"  answered  the  hus- 
band, peevishly. 

"  For  God's  sake,  Rollmaus,  don't  do  anything 
foolish  ;  above  all,  do  not  blaspheme,"  she  continued, 
pressing  his  arm  ;  "  he  is  mentioned  in  the  encyclo- 
pedia." 

"  In  yours?"  aslced  the  husband. 

"In  the  one  here,"  replied  the  wife,  "which 
amounts  to  the  same  thing." 

"There  are  many  things  in  books  that  are  of  less 
value  than  others  that  are  not  there,"  said  the  hus- 
band, unmoved. 

"  I  am  not  to  be  put  off  in  that  way.  You  will  not 
confute  me  by  that,"  replied  the  wife.  "  I  tell  you  that 
he  is  a  man  of  renown,  and  propriety  demands  that 
we  should  take  the  fact  into  consideration,  and  you 
know  that  so  far  as  propriety  is  concerned — 

"Only  be  quiet,"  said  Rollmaus,  soothingly.  "I 
say  nothing  to  the  contrary,  if  needs  be  ;  I  have  eaten 
man}'  a  sour  apple  on  your  account." 

"  On  my  account !"  cried  the  wife,  offended.  "Have 
I  been  unreasonable — am  I  a  tyrant — am  I  an  Eve  who 
has  stood  with  her  husband  under  the  tree,  with  loose 
hair,  and  not  even  a  chemise  ?  Will  you  compare 
yourself  and  me  with  such  a  state  of  things  ?" 


A  LEARNED  LADY  FROM  THE  COUNTRY.      127 

"No,"  said  Rollmaus.  "Only  be  content;  you 
know  how  we  get  on  together." 

"  Don't  you  see  that  I  am  right?  "  replied  the  wife, 
soothed.  "  Believe  me,  I  know  also  how  others  get 
on  together,  and  I  tell  you  I  have  a  presentiment  that 
something  is  brewing." 

"What  is  brewing?"  asked  Mr.  Rollmaus. 

"Something  between  Use  and  the  Professor." 

"The  devil  there  is  !"  exclaimed  Mr.  Rollmaus, 
with  more  vivacity  than  he  had  shown  the  whole  day. 

"  Be  quiet,  Rollmaus,  you  will  be  heard  ;  do  not 
lose  command  of  yourself." 

Use  had  remained  behind  ;  she  was  leading  her 
youngest  brother,  who  was  tired.  The  Professor 
gallantly  remained  by  her.  He  pointed  out  to  her  how 
well  the  procession  looked  ;  the  torches,  like  large 
glow  worms,  in  front ;  behind,  the  sharply  outlined 
figures,  and  the  flickering  of  the  gleaming  light  upon 
the  trunks  and  green  branches  of  the  trees.  Use  list- 
ened to  him  long  in  silence.  At  last  she  said  :  "The 
most  charming  thing  of  the  day  was  the  kind  way  you 
spoke  to  our  dear  neighbor  Mrs.  Rollmaus.  When 
she  was  seated  by  you,  I  felt  troubled  in  mind,  for  I 
thought  it  would  annoy  you  to  listen  to  the  importunate 
questions  of  our  friend,  and  it  all  at  once  struck  me 
that  toward  us  also  you  exercise  constant  considera- 
tion ;  and  that  thought  tormented  me.  But  when  I 
saw  that  you  so  kindly  and  frankly  recognized  the 
good  that  is  in  our  friend  and  her  fullness  of  soul,  I 
felt  that  it  cost  you  no  great  effort  of  self-command  to 
hold  intercourse  with  us  simple  folk." 

"  My  dear  Miss,"  exclaimed  the  Professor,  anx- 
iously, "I  hope  you  are  convinced  that  I  only  said 
to  the  worthy  lady  what  came  sincerely  from  my  heart  ?  " 


128  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

"I  know  it,"  said  Use,  with  warmth,  "and  the 
honest  soul  felt  it  also  herself — she  has  been  quieter 
and  more  cheerful  than  usual  the  whole  day — and 
therefore  I  thank  you.  Yes,  from  my  heart, "  she  added, 
softly. 

Praise  from  the  lips  of  one  beloved  is  not  among 
the  least  of  the  pleasures  that  a  man  enjoys.  The  Pro- 
fessor looked  beaming  with  happiness  at  his  neighbor, 
who  now  in  the  darkness  led  her  brother  along  at  a 
quicker  pace.  He  did  not  venture  to  break  the  silence  ; 
the  pure  hearts  of  both  had  been  revealed,  and,  with- 
out speaking  a  word  both  felt  the  stream  of  warm  sen- 
timent that  passed  from  one  to  the  other. 

"  For  him  who  passes  from  the  midst  of  books  into 
the  paths  of  men,"  began  the  Professor,  at  last,  "  the 
pedantic  habit  of  continued  reading  there  acquired, 
often  makes  it  easier  to  derive  from  a  strange  mode 
of  life  that  which  is  of  the  highest  benefit  to  his  own. 
For,  after  all,  there  is  in  every  life  an  element  that 
commands  reverence,  however  much  it  may  often  be 
veiled  by  wondrous  accompaniments." 

"We  are  commanded  to  love  our  neighbors,"  said 
Use,  "  and  we  endeavor  to  do  so  ;  but  when  one  finds 
that  this  love  is  given  so  cheerfully  and  nobly,  it  is 
touching  ;  and  when  one  sees  such  feeling  displayed, 
it  becomes  an  example  and  elevates  the  heart.  Come, 
Franz,"  she  said,  turning  to  her  brother,  "we  are 
not  far  from  home."  But  Franz  stumbled,  and,  half 
asleep,  declared  that  his  legs  ached. 

"  Up  with  you,  little  man,"  said  the  Professor, 
" let  me  carry  you." 

Use,  distressed,  tried  to  prevent  it.  "I  cannot 
allow  that ;  it  is  only  sleep  that  makes  him  so  lazy." 

"  Only  till  we  reach  the  valley,"  said  the  Professor, 


A  LEARNED  LADY  FROM  THE  COUNTRY.      1 29 

raising  the  child  on  his  shoulder.  Franz  clasped  his 
arms  round  the  Professor's  neck,  and  clinging  close 
to  him,  was  soon  fast  asleep.  When  they  came  to  a 
steep  turn  of  the  road,  the  Professor  offered  the  arm 
which  was  free  to  his  companion  ;  but  she  refused, 
only  supporting  herself  a  little  with  his  proffered  hand. 
But  her  hand  glided  down  and  remained  in  that  of 
her  companion.  Thus  hand  in  hand  they  walked  down 
the  last  part  of  the  hill  into  the  valley,  neither  of  them 
speaking  a  word.  When  they  arrived  at  the  bottom, 
Use  gently  withdrew  her  hand,  and  he  released  it  with- 
out a  word  or  pressure  ;  but  these  few  minutes  com- 
prised for  both  a  world  of  happy  feelings. 

"Come  down,  Franz,"  said  Use,  taking  her  sleep- 
ing brother  from  the  arm  of  her  friend.  She  bent 
down  to  the  little  one  to  encourage  him,  and  they  went 
on  to  join  the  party,  who  were  waiting  for  them  at  the 
brook. 

The  carriage  of  the  Crown-Inspector  drew  up.  The 
parting  greetings  of  his  wife  were  very  verbose,  and 
her  representations  had  mitigated  his  obstinacy,  so 
that,  cap  in  hand,  he  made  up  his  mind  to  take,  with 
tolerable  decorum,  a  bite  of  the  aforementioned  sour 
apple.  He  approached  the  literary  gentlemen,  and 
asked  them  to  grant  him  also  the  pleasure  of  a  visit ; 
and  even  the  utterance  of  these  friendly  words  had  a 
softening  influence  on  his  honest  soul.  He  now  held 
out  his  hand  to  them,  and  receiving  a  hearty  shake  he 
began  to  think  that  the  strangers  were  not  in  reality 
so  bad  as  might  be  supposed.  The  Proprietor  accom- 
panied his  guests  to  the  carriage,  Hans  passed  the 
bandbox  in,  and  the  two  country-gentlemen,  as  they 
bade  each  other  good  night,  watched  the  starting  of 
tha  horses  with  the  eyes  of  connoisseurs. 


130  THE    LOST   MANUSCRIPT. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

NEW    HOSTILITIES. 

WHILST  a  bright  womanly  form  rose  on  the  horizon 
between  the  Professor  and  the  Doctor,  fate  decreed 
that  a  new  feud  should  break  out  betwixt  the  two  neigh- 
boring houses  in  the  city.  It  happened  thus. 

Mr.  Hahn  had  availed  himself  of  the  absence  of 
his  son  to  beautify  his  grounds.  His  garden  ran  in  a 
point  to  the  park,  and  he  had  bethought  him  much 
how  this  corner  might  be  turned  to  good  account  ;  for 
the  little  mound  which  he  had  thrown  up  there,  and 
planted  with  roses,  seemed  unsatisfactory.  He  deter- 
mined, therefore,  to  erect  a  weather-proof  summer- 
house  for  such  visitors  as  were  not  inclined  in  bad 
weather  to  retire  to  the  residence.  Everything  had  been 
wisely  considered  before  the  departure  of  his  son.  The 
following  day  he  caused  a  slender  wooden  structure  to 
be  erected,  with  small  windows  toward  the  street,  and 
above,  instead  of  a  roof,  a  platform  with  airy  benches, 
the  laths  of  which  projected  boldly  over  the  wooden 
walls  and  garden  palings  out  into  the  street.  Every- 
thing seemed  favorable.  But  when  Mr.  Hahn,  with 
hearty  satisfaction,  led  his  wife  up  the  small  side  steps 
on  to  the  platform,  and  the  plump  lady,  not  anticipat- 
ing anything  wrong,  sat  down  on  the  airy  bench,  and 
from  thence  looked  with  admiration  on  the  world  be- 
neath her,  it  was  soon  discovered  that  the  passers-by 
in  the  street  had  to  go  directly  under  her,  and  the  sky 


NEW    HOSTILITIES.  131 

above  was  darkened  to  whoever  passed  along  the  fence 
by  the  plumage  of  the  great  bird  that,  perched  on  her 
high  nest,  sat  with  her  back  turned  to  the  street.  Before 
a  quarter  of  an  hour  had  passed,  accordingly,  such  sharp 
remarks  were  heard  that  the  inoffensive  Mrs.  Hahn 
was  on  the  point  of  weeping,  and  declared  to  her  lord, 
with  unwonted  energy,  that  she  would  never  again  al- 
low herself  to  be  treated  as  a  hen,  or  ascend  the  plat- 
form any  more.  The  family  frame  of  mind  was  not 
improved  either  by  the  part  that  Mr.  Hummel  had 
taken,  for  he  had  stood  by  the  fence  of  his  neighbor's 
garden  during  this  exhibition  of  Mrs.  Hahn,  and  had 
laughed  at  the  vile  speeches  of  the  passers-by. 

Mr.  Hahn,  however,  after  a  short  struggle  between 
pride  and  discretion,  listened  to  the  voice  of  his  better 
self,  removed  the  benches  and  the  platform,  and  erected 
over  the  summer-house  a  beautiful  Chinese  roof ;  and 
on  the  projections  of  this  roof  he  hung  small  bells, 
which  sounded  softly  when  the  wind  rose.  This  idea 
would  have  been  a  decided  improvement ;  but,  alas  ! 
the  wickedness  of  man  gave  no  rest  to  this  work  of 
art  for  the  urchins  in  the  street  diverted  themselves 
by  continually  keeping  the  bells  in  movement  by  means 
of  long  switches.  On  the  first  night,  therefore,  the 
neighborhood  was  awakened  from  its  slumbers  by  a 
concert  of  many  bells.  That  night  Mr.  Hahn  dreamed 
that  winter  was  come,  and  that  a  merry  party  of  sleighs 
were  passing  round  his  house  ;  he  listened,  and  indig- 
nantly discovered  that  his  own  bells  had  been  set  jn 
motion.  He  hastened  into  the  garden  in  his  night- 
dress, and  called  out,  angrily  : 

"Who  is  there  ?" 

In  an  instant  the  ringing  ceased,  deep  silence  and 
peaceful  quiet  reigned  around.  He  went  up  to  the 


132  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

garden-house,  and  looked  at  his  bells,  which  might  be 
seen  swinging  under  the  darkened  sky  ;  but  round- 
about no  one  was  to  be  discovered.  He  went  back  to 
his  bed,  but  scarcely  had  he  laid  himself  down  when 
the  noise  began  again,  quick  and  loud,  as  if  pealing 
for  a  Christmas  party.  Again  he  rushed  out  of  the 
house,  and  again  the  noise  ceased  ;  but  when  he  raised 
himself  above  the  railing  and  looked  around,  he  saw 
in  the  garden  opposite  the  broad  figure  of  Mr.  Hum- 
mel standing  by  the  hedge,  and  heard  a  threatening 
voice  call  out  : 

"What  crazy  conduct  is  this  ?  " 

"  It  is  inexplicable,  Mr.  Hummel,"  exclaimed  Mr. 
Hahn,  across  the  street,  in  a  conciliatory  tone. 

"  Nothing  is  inexplicable,"  cried  out  Mr.  Hummel, 
"but  the  mischievous  insanity  of  hanging  bells  in  the 
open  air  over  a  public  street." 

"  I  resent  your  attack, "called  out  Mr.  Hahn  deeply 
wounded.  "  I  have  a  right  to  hang  up  what  I  like  on 
my  own  property." 

Then  there  began  a  conflict  of  views  across  the 
street,  weird  and  frightful.  There  Hummel's  bass,  here 
Hahn's  sharp  voice,  which  gradually  rose  into  a  counter- 
tenor ;  both  figures  in  long  night-dresses,  divided  by 
the  street  and  railings,  but  like  two  heroes  of  antiquity 
belaboring  one  another  with  strong  language.  If  one 
failed  to  perceive  the  wild  effect  given  to  Mr.  Hahn 
by  the  red  color  of  his  night-dress,  he  yet  might  be 
seen  towering  upon  the  height  near  his  Chinese  temple, 
raising  his  arm  imposingly  across  the  horizon  ;  but  Mr. 
Hummel  stood  in  the  darkness,  overshadowed  by  the 
wild  vine. 

"  I  will  have  you  before  the  police  court,  for  dis- 
turbing the  public  peace,"  cried  Mr.  Hummel  at  last, 


NEW    HOSTILITIES.  133 

but  felt  the  small  hand  of  his  wife  at  his  back,  who 
seized  him  by  his  night-dress,  turned  him  round,  and 
gently  entreated  him  not  to  make  a  scene. 

"  And  I  will  inquire  before  the  court  who  gave  you 
a  right  to  heap  abuse  upon  me  from  across  the  street," 
called  out  Mr.  Hahn,  likewise  in  the  act  of  retiring, 
for  amidst  the  noise  of  the  fight  he  had  now  and  then 
heard  the  soft  words,  "  Ccme  back,  Hahn,"  and  seen 
his  wife  behind  him  wringing  her  hands.  But  he  was 
not  in  a  disposition  to  abandon  the  field  of  battle. 

"A  light  and  ladder  here,"  he  exclaimed,  "  I  will 
unearth  this  shameful  trick." 

The  ladder  and  lanterns  speedily  made  their  appear- 
ance, brought  by  the  frightened  maid-servant.  Mr. 
Hahn  mounted  up  to  his  bells,  and  sought  long  in  vain  ; 
at  last  he  discovered  that  some  one  had  contrived  to 
unite  the  separate  bells  by  a  plait  of  horse-hair  and 
thus  had  rung  them  from  the  outside  by  a  string. 

This  wild  night  was  followed  by  a  gloomy  morn. 

"  Go  to  the  fellow  across  the  street,  Gabriel,"  said 
Mr.  Hummel,  "and  ask  if,  for  the  sake  of  peace,  he 
is  willing  to  take  down  his  bells  at  once.  I  require 
my  sleep,  and  I  will  not  suffer  that  a  rabble  of  thieves 
shall  be  allured  to  my  house,  make  inroads  upon 
the  fence,  steal  my  plums,  and  break  into  my  factory. 
This  man,  by  his  ringing,  calls  together  all  the  rogues 
of  the  neighborhood." 

Gabriel  replied  :  "  I  will  go  over  there  for  the  sake 
of  peace  ;  but  only  if  I  may  say  with  civility  what  I 
think  fit." 

"  With  civility  ?  "  repeated  Hummel,  winking  slyly 
at  his  confidant.  "  You  do  not  understand  your  own 
interest.  So  fine  an  opportunity  of  making  yourself 
important  will  not  occur  soon  again,  and  it  would  be  a 


134  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

pity  to  let  it  escape  you.  But  I  foresee,  Gabriel,  that, 
civil  or  not,  we  shall  be  unable  to  deal  with  the  man. 
He's  malicious  and  obstinate  and  bitter.  He  is  a  bull- 
dog, Gabriel.  There,  you  have  his  character." 

Gabriel  proceeded  to  the  house  of  poor  Mr.  Hahn, 
who  sat,  still  suffering,  before  his  untasted  breakfast, 
and  looked  suspiciously  at  the  inmate  of  the  hostile 
house. 

"  I  come  only  to  inquire,"  began  Gabriel,  adroitly, 
"  whether,  perhaps,  you  may  have  received  intelli- 
gence through  your  son  of  my  master  ?  " 

"None,  "answered  Mr.  Hahn,  sorrowfully ;  "there 
are  times  when  everything  goes  wrong,  dear  Gabriel." 

"  Yes,  what  a  roguish  trick  that  was,  last  night," 
said  Gabriel,  pityingly. 

Mr  Hahn  sprang  up. 

"  He  called  me  insane  and  said  I  was  a  coxcomb. 
Am  I  to  put  up  with  that  ?  I,  a  man  of  business, 
and  in  my  own  garden  !  As  for  the  plaything,  you 
may  be  right  enough  ;  one  must  not  put  too  much  con- 
fidence in  men.  But  now  my  honor  is  touched,  and  I 
tell  you  the  bells  shall  remain,  and  I  shall  place  a 
watchman  there  every  night." 

In  vain  did  Gabriel  speak  rationally  to  him.  Mr. 
Hahn  was  inexorable,  and  called  out  after  him  as 
he  was  leaving  : 

"  Tell  him  we  shall  meet  again  in  court." 

Accordingly  he  went  to  his  attorney,  and  insisted 
upon  bringing  a  suit  for  the  abusive  language  of  the 
previous  night. 

"  Good,"  said  Mr.  Hummel, when  Gabriel  returned 
from  his  fruitless  mission.  "These  people  compel  me 
to  adopt  measures  of  security  for  myself.  I  will  take 
care  that  no  strange  horse-hair  shall  be  attached  to 


NEW    HOSTILITIES.  135 

my  house.  When  the  rogues  sound  the  bells  over 
there,  the  dogs  shall  bark  here.  Measure  for  measure, 
Gabriel." 

He  went  gloomily  to  his  factory,  and  paced  about 
wildly.  His  bookkeeper,  who  appeared  to  be  a  much- 
oppressed  man,  because  he  never  could  obtain  his 
rights  from  Mr.  Hummel,  thought  it  was  his  duty  and 
a  fitting  time  to  speak. 

"The  ideas  of  this  man  Hahn  are  absurd  ;  all  the 
world  finds  fault  with  them." 

But  the  speech  did  him  no  good. 

"  What  do  this  man's  ideas  signify  to  you  ?  "  cried 
Hummel.  ''Are  you  the  householder,  and  are  you  or 
I  head  of  this  business  ?  If  I  choose  to  be  angry  it  is 
my  affair  and  not  yours.  His  new  clerk,  Knips,  wears 
his  hair  in  frizzy  curls,  and  perfumes  himself  with  Eau 
de  Cologne  ;  you  may  make  fun  of  him  about  that ;  that 
is  your  right.  As  to  what  concerns  the  rest  of  the 
world,  your  blame  of  this  man's  devices  is  worth  about 
as  much  as  the  twittering  of  the  sparrow  on  the  house- 
top ;  and  if  he  should  every  day  hang  a  peal  of  bells 
on  his  shoulders  and  go  in  that  attire  into  the  counting- 
house,  he  would  still  remain  a  respectable  citizen  so 
far  as  this  street  rabble  is  concerned.  Only,  as  regards 
myself,  it  is  another  thing.  I  am  his  neighbor  day 
and  night,  and  if  he  gets  into  trouble  I  also  have  to 
surfer.  For  the  rest,  I  object  to  all  calumnies  on  my 
fellow- men.  What  must  be  said  is  my  business  alone, 
without  associates  ;  remember  that." 

A  few  evenings  later,  Gabriel  was  standing  before 
the  house-door,  looking  up  to  the  heavens  and  watch- 
ing whether  a  small  black  cloud,  which  was  slowly 
floating  past,  would  cover  the  face  of  the  moon,  just 
as  this  took  place,  and  the  street  and  both  houses  lay 


136  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

in  darkness  a  carriage  drove  up  to  the  house,  and  the 
voice  of  the  master  called  out :  "Is  all  well  ?  " 

"  All  well,"  answered  Gabriel,  and  unbuttoned  the 
apron. 

Mr.  Hummel  descended  heavily,  and  behind  him 
was  heard  an  angry  growl. 

"What  have  you  got  in  there  ?  "  asked  Gabriel,  with 
much  curiosity,  putting  his  hands  into  the  carriage, 
but  he  quickly  withdrew  them.  "The  beast  bites  !  " 
he  ejaculated. 

"I  hope  it  does,"  replied  Mr.  Hummel.  I  meant 
it  to  bite.  I  have  brought  a  pair  of  watch-dogs  as  a 
guard  against  the  bell  ringers." 

He  pulled  out  by  a  rope  two  indistinct  figures, 
which  rushed  about  yelping  hoarsely,  and,  circling 
round  Gabriel's  legs,  viciously  drew  the  cord  round 
him  like  a  noose. 

Gabriel  extricated  himself.  The  clouds  had  passed 
away,  and  in  the  bright  moon  light  both  dogs  were 
plainly  visible. 

"They  are  strange  beasts,  Mr.  Hummel.  A  curious 
race.  Evidently  mongrels,"  he  continued,  in  a  depre- 
catory tone  ;  "hardly  medium  size,  thick  in  the  chest, 
and  with  shaggy  hair  ;  the  bristles  hang  over  their 
muzzles  like  mustachios.  The  mother  must  have  been 
a  poodle,  the  father  a  spitz  ;  I  think  I  also  detect  some 
relationship  with  the  pug,  and  the  great  grandfather 
must  have  been  a  terrier.  A  remarkable  product,  Mr. 
Hummel,  and  somewhat  rare.  How  did  you  come  by 
the  animals  ?" 

"  By  accident.  I  could  not  obtain  a  dog  in  the  vil- 
lage to-day  ;  but  as  I  was  returning  through  the  wood 
the  horses  suddenly  shied  and  would  not  move  on. 
While  the  coachman  was  handling  them,  I  all  at  once 


NEW    HOSTILITIES.  137 

perceived  near  the  carriage  a  large  dark  man,  stand- 
ing as  if  he  had  sprung  out  of  the  ground.  He  was 
holding  the  two  dogs  by  a  rope,  and  laughed  jeeringly 
at  the  abuse  of  the  coachman.  '  What  is  the  matter?' 
I  called  out  to  him  ;  '  where  are  you  taking  the  dogs 
to?'  'To  whosoever  wishes  to  have  them,'  said 
the  black  fellow.  '  Lift  them  into  the  carriage  ,'  said  I. 
'  I  shall  do  nothing  of  the  sort,'  growled  the  stranger  ; 
'you  must  fetch  them  yourself.'  I  descended  and  asked 
him  what  he  wanted  for  them.  He  replied  '  Noth- 
ing.' The  matter  looked  suspicious,  but  I  thought  it 
would  be  no  harm  to  try  them.  I  lifted  the  beasts 
into  the  carriage ;  and  found  them  as  quiet  as  lambs. 
'What  are  their  names?'  I  cried  out  from  the  car- 
riage. '  Brauhahn  and  Goslar, '  said  the  man,  laugh- 
ing fiendishly." 

"  But  they  are  no  dogs'  names,  Mr.  Hummel,"  in- 
terposed Gabriel,  shaking  his  head. 

"  That  was  what  I  told  the  man,  but  he  replied, 
'  they  never  suffered  babtism. '  '  But  the  rope  is  yours, ' 
I  said  ;  and  only  think,  Gabriel,  this  black  fellow  an- 
swered me  :  '  Keep  it ;  and  hang  yourself  with  it.'  I 
wanted  to  throw  the  dogs  out  of  the  carriage  again, 
but  the  man  had  vanished  into  the  wood  like  a  will-o'- 
the-wisp." 

"That  is  a  dreadful  story,"  said  Gabriel,  much 
troubled  ;  "these  dogs  have  been  raised  in  no  Chris- 
tian household.  And  do  you  really  intend  to  keep  the 
ill-omened  creatures  ?  " 

"I  shall  make  the  attempt,"  said  Mr.  Hummel. 
"After  all,  a  dog  is  a  dog." 

"  Be  on  your  guard,  Mr.  Hummel,  there  is  some- 
thing mysterious  in  these  beasts." 

"Nonsense  !  " 


138  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

"They  are  monsters,"  continued  Gabriel,  counting 
on  his  fingers  ;  "first,  they  have  not  the  names  of  earthly 
dogs ;  secondly,  they  were  offered  without  money ; 
thirdly,  no  man  knows  what  food  they  eat." 

"As  to  their  appetite,  you  will  not  have  to  wait 
long  to  discover  what  that  is,"  replied  the  master  of 
the  house. 

Gabriel  drew  a  bit  of  bread  out  of  his  pocket,  and 
the  dogs  snapped  at  it.  "  In  that  regard  they  are  of 
the  right  species,"  he  said,  a  little  tranquillized  ;  "but 
what  are  they  to  be  called  in  the  house  ?  " 

"Brauhahn  I  shall  call  Fighthahn,"  replied  Mr. 
Hummel ;  "and  in  my  family  no  dogs  shall  be  called 
Goslar.  I  cannot  bear  the  beastly  drink."  He  cast 
a  hostile  look  at  the  neighboring  house.  "  Other 
people  have  such  stuff  fetched  every  day  across  the 
street,  but  that  is  no  reason  why  I  should  suffer  such 
a  word  in  my  household.  The  black  shall  from  this 
day  forth  be  called  Fight/ia/m  and  the  red  Spite/ia/in — 
that  is  settled. 

"But,  Mr.  Hummel,  these  names  are  clearly  offen- 
sive," exclaimed  Gabriel;  "  that  will  make  the  matter 
worse." 

"That  is  my  affair,"  said  Mr.  Hummel,  decidedly. 
"At  night  they  shall  remain  in  the  yard  ;  they  must 
guard  the  house." 

"So  long  as  they  do  but  preserve  their  bodies," 
said  Gabriel,  warningly ;  "but  this  kind  come  and 
vanish  as  they  please — not  as  we  wish." 

"  Yet  they  are  not  of  the  devil,"  rejoined  Mr.  Hum- 
mel, laughing. 

"  Who  speaks  of  the  devil  ?  "  replied  Gabriel, 
quickly.  "There  is  no  devil — that  the  Professor  will 
never  allow ;  but  of  dogs  we  have  various  kinds." 


NEW    HOSTILITIES.  139 

So  saying,  Gabriel  took  the  animals  into  the  hall. 
Mr.  Hummel  called  out  into  the  room  :  "  Good  even- 
ing, Philippine.  Here,  I  have  brought  you  a  present." 

Mrs.  Hummel  came  to  the  door  with  a  light,  and 
looked  astonished  at  the  present,  which  whined  at  her 
feet.  This  humility  disposed  the  lady  to  regard  them 
with  benevolence. 

"But  they  are  frightful,"  she  said,  dubiously,  as 
the  red  and  the  black  sat  down  on  each  side  of  her, 
wagging  their  tails  and  looking  up  at  her  from  under 
their  shaggy  eyebrows.  ' '  And  why  did  you  bring  two  ?  " 

"They  are  not  intended  for  exhibition,"  returned 
Mr.  Hummel  in  a  pacifying  tone  ;  "they  are  country 
ware — one  is  a  substitute  for  the  other. " 

After  this  presentation  they  were  carried  off  to  a 
shed.  Gabriel  once  more  tried  their  capacity  of  eating 
and  drinking  ;  they  showed  themselves  thoroughly  sat- 
isfactory in  this  respect,  though  as  regards  personal 
beauty  they  were  not  distinguished  dogs  ;  and  Gabriel 
went  to  his  room  free  from  anxiety. 

When  the  clock  struck  ten,  and  the  gate  which 
separated  the  court-yard  from  the  street  was  closed, 
Mr.  Hummel  went  down  himself  to  the  dogs'  shed  to 
initiate  these  new  watchers  into  their  calling.  He  was 
much  astonished,  on  opening  the  door,  to  find  that  they 
did  not  require  any  encouraging  words  from  him — both 
rushed  out  between  his  legs  into  the  yard.  As  if  driven 
by  an  invisible  whip,  they  dashed  at  a  headlong  pace 
round  the  house  and  factory — always  together,  and 
never  silent.  Hitherto  they  had  been  depressed  and 
quiet ;  now,  either  as  the  result  of  the  good  food  they 
had  devoured  or  because  their  night  watch  had  come, 
they  became  so  noisy  that  even  Mr.  Hummel  drew 
back  in  astonishment.  Their  hoarse  short  bark  deaf- 


140 


THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 


ened  the  horn  of  the  night  watchman  and  the  call  of 
their  master,  who  wished  to  recommend  moderation. 
They  chased  wildly  and  incessantly  around  the  court, 
and  a  continuous  yelping  accompanied  their  stormj 
career.  The  windows  of  the  house  were  thrown  open. 

"  This  will  be  a  horrible  night,  Mr.  Hummel,"  said 
Gabriel. 

"Henry,"  cried  out  his  wife  from  her  bedroom 
"this  is  insupportable." 

"It  is  their  first  outburst  of  joy,"  nothing  more, 
said  Mr.  Hummel,  consolingly,  and  withdrawing  into 
the  house. 

But  this  view  of  the  matter  turned  out  to  be  erro- 
neous. Throughout  the  whole  night  the  barking  of  the 
dogs  sounded  from  the  court-yard.  In  the  houses  of  the 
neighborhood,  shutters  were  thrown  open,  and  loud 
words  of  reproach  addressed  to  Mr.  Hummel.  The 
following  morning  he  arose  in  a  state  of  great  uncer- 
tainty. Even  his  own  sound  sleep  had  been  disturbed 
by  the  reproaches  of  his  wife,  who  now  sat  at  breakfast 
angry  and  depressed  with  headache.  When  he  entered 
the  court-yard,  and  gathered  from  his  men  the  com- 
plaints they  had  heard  from  the  neighbors,  even  he 
hesitated  for  a  moment  whether  he  should  keep  the 
dogs. 

Ill  luck  would  have  it  that  just  at  this  moment  Mr. 
Hahn's  porter  entered  the  court-yard,  and  with  de- 
fiant mien  announced  that  Mr.  Hahn  insisted  upon  Mr. 
Hummel  putting  a  stop  to  this  outrageous  barking,  or 
he  should  be  obliged  to  seek  redress  before  a  justice 
of  the  peace. 

This  attitude  of  his  opponent  at  once  decided  the 
inward  struggle  of  Mr.  Hummel. 

"  If  I  can  bear  the  barking  of  my  dogs,  other  peo- 


NEW    HOSTILITIES.  14! 

pie  can  do  so  too.  The  bells  play  on  your  side  of  the 
way  and  the  dogs  sing  on  mine,  and  if  any  one  wishes 
to  hear  my  views  before  a  magistrate  he  shall  hear 
enough  to  satisfy  him." 

He  returned  to  the  house  and  with  dignity  ap- 
proached his  suffering  wife. 

"Are  two  dogs  to  come  between  you  and  me, 
Henry  ?  "  asked  the  wife,  with  faltering  voice. 

"Never,"  replied  Mr.  Hummel ;  the  domestic  peace 
must  be  preserved.  I  am  sorry  that  you  have  a  head- 
ache, and  to  please  you  I  would  remove  the  beasts. 
But  I  have  collided  again  with  that  coxcomb  across  the 
way.  For  the  second  time  he  threatens  me  with  a  suit 
and  the  magistrate.  My  honor  is  at  stake,  and  I  can 
no  longer  give  in.  Be  a  good  wife,  Philippine,  and  try 
to  bear  it  a  few  nights  longer.  Put  cotton  in  your  ears, 
till  the  dogs  have  gotten  accustomed  to  their  work." 

"  Henry,"  replied  the  wife, wearily,  "  I  have  never 
doubted  your  heart ;  but  your  character  is  rough,  and 
the  voices  of  the  dogs  are  too  horrible.  Can  you,  in 
order  to  enforce  your  will,  see  your  wife  suffer,  and 
become  seriously  ill,  from  sleeplessness  ?  Will  you,  in 
order  to  maintain  your  position,  sacrifice  peace  with 
the  neighborhood  ?  " 

"  I  do  not  want  you  to  be  ill,  but  I  will  not  send 
away  the  dogs,"  replied  Mr.  Hummel,  seizing  his  felt 
hat,  and  going  to  the  factory  with  heavy  step. 

If  Mr.  Hummel  indulged  in  the  hope  that  he  had 
ended  the  domestic  struggle  as  conqueror,  he  was 
greatly  in  error.  There  was  still  another  power  in  his 
home,  who  opened  the  campaign  in  a  different  man- 
ner. When  Mr.  Hummel  approached  his  desk  in  his 
little  counting-house,  he  saw  near  the  inkstand  a  nose- 
gay of  flowers.  Attached  to  the  pink  ribbon  hung  a 


142  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

note  which  was  sealed  with  a  forget-me-not,  and  ad- 
dressed— "To  my  dear  Father." 

"That  is  my  bright-eyed  girl,"  he  murmured,  and 
opening  the  note  read  the  following  lines  : 

"  My  dear  pa,  good  morrow  I 
The  dogs  cause  great  sorrow, 
They  are  not  delightful  ; 
Their  bark  is  just  frightful  ; 
Their  ardor  and  sanguinity 
Disturb  the  vicinity. 
For  the  sake  of  our  neighborhood, 
Be  noble,  generous  and  good." 

Hummel  laughed  so  heartily  that  the  work  in  the 
factory  stopped,  and  every  one  was  amazed  at  his  good 
humor.  Then  he  marked  the  note  with  the  date  of  its 
reception,  put  it  in  his  pocket-book,  and  after  exam- 
ining the  letters  that  had  arrived,  he  betook  himself  into 
the  garden.  He  saw  his  little  daughter  sprinkling  the 
beds  with  her  watering-pot,  and  his  heart  swelled  with 
a  father's  pride.  With  what  grace  she  turned  and  bent, 
and  how  her  dark  locks  hung  round  the  blooming  face, 
and  how  actively  she  raised  and  swung  the  watering- 
pot  ;  and,  on  perceiving  him,  when  she  put  it  down  and 
held  her  finger  threateningly  at  him,  he  was  quite  en- 
chanted. 

"  Verses  again,"  he  called  out  to  her,  "  I  have  re- 
ceived Number  Nine." 

"And  you  will  be  my  good  papa,"  cried  Laura, 
hastening  toward  him  and  stroking  his  chin  ;  "  do  send 
them  away." 

"But,  my  child,"  said  the  father,  composedly.  "  I 
have  already  spoken  to  your  mother  about  it,  and  I 
have  already  explained  to  her  why  I  cannot  dispose  of 
them.  Now,  I  cannot  do  to  please  you,  what  I  have 
refused  your  mother;  that  would  be  contrary  to  all 
family  regulations.  Respect  your  mother,  little  girl." 


NEW    HOSTILITIES.  143 

"You  are  a  hard-hearted  father,"  replied  the 
daughter,  pouting ;  "and  more  than  that,  you  are  un- 
just in  this  affair." 

"  Oh,  oh  !  "  cried  the  father,  "  is  that  the  way  you 
approach  me  ?  " 

"What  harm  does  the  ringing  of  bells  over  there 
do  to  us  ?  The  little  summer-house  is  pretty,  and  when 
we  sit  in  the  garden  in  the  evening,  and  there  is  a  breeze, 
and  the  bells  tinkle  gently,  it  sounds  just  lovely — it  is 
like  Mozart's  Magic  Flute." 

"Our  street  is  not  an  opera-house,"  the  father 
retorted  sharply,  "but  a  public  thoroughfare  ;  and  when 
my  pet  dogs  bark  you  can  equally  well  pursue  your 
theatrical  ideas,  and  imagine  that  you  are  in  the 
Wolf's  Den,  in  the  Freischiitz." 

"No,  my  father,"  answered  the  daughter,  eagerly, 
"you  are  unjust  towards  these  people  ;  for  you  wish 
to  spite  them,  and  that  vexes  me  to  my  heart's  core. 
It  is  not  worthy  of  my  father." 

"Yet  you  must  bear  it,"  he  replied,  doggedly,  "  for 
this  is  a  quarrel  between  men.  Police  regulations  set- 
tle such  affairs,  and  your  verses  are  altogether  out  of 
place.  As  regards  the  names,  it  is  possible  that  other 
words  like  Adolar,  Ingomar,  and  Marquis  Posa,  might 
sound  better  to  you  women-folk.  But  this  is  no  reason- 
for  me  ;  my  names  are  practical.  In  the  matter  of 
flowers  and  books,  I  will  do  much  to  please  you  but  in 
the  matter  of  dogs  I  cannot  take  poetry  into  consid- 
eration." So  saying,  he  turned  his  back  upon  his 
daughter,  to  avoid  protracting  the  dispute. 

Laura,  however,  hastened  to  her  mother's  room, 
and  the  ladies  took  counsel  together. 

"The  noise  was  bad  enough,"  complained  Laura, 
"  but  the  names  are  terrible.  I  cannot  say  those  words 


144  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

for  my  life,  and  you  ought  not  to  allow  our  servant  to 
do  so,  either." 

"Dear  child,"  answered  the  experienced  mother, 
"one  has  to  pass  through  much  in  this  world  which  is 
unpleasant,  but  what  grieves  me  most  is  the  wanton 
attacks  upon  the  dignity  of  women  in  their  own  houses. 
I  shall  say  no  more  on  the  subject.  I  agree  with  you, 
that  both  the  names  by  which  the  dogs  are  called  are 
an  insult  to  our  neighbor.  But  if  your  father  were  to 
discover  that  behind  his  back  we  called  them  Phoebus 
and  Azor,  it  would  make  matters  worse." 

"  No  one  at  least  must  utter  those  other  names 
who  cares  for  my  friendship,"  said  Laura,  decidedly, 
and  entered  into  the  court-yard. 

Gabriel  was  employing  his  leisure  in  making  obser- 
vations on  the  new  comers.  He  was  frequently  at- 
tracted to  the  dogs'  kennel  in  order  to  establish  the 
certainty  of  the  earthly  nature  of  the  strangers. 

"What  is  your  opinion  ?  "  asked  Laura,  approach- 
ing him. 

"I  have  my  opinion,"  answered  the  servant,  peer- 
ing into  the  interior  of  the  shed,  "namely,  that  there  is 
something  mysterious  about  them.  Did  you  remark 
the  song  of  those  ravens  the  other  night  ?  No  real  dog 
barks  like  that ;  they  whine  and  moan  and  occasionally 
groan  and  speak  like  little  children.  They  eat  like  other 
dogs,  but  their  mode  of  life  is  unusual.  See,  how  they 
cower  down,  as  if  they  had  been  struck  on  the  mouth, 
because  the  sun  shines  on  them.  And  then,  dear 
young  lady,  the  names  !  " 

Laura  looked  with  curiosity  at  the  beasts. 

"We  will  alter  the  names  secretly,  Gabriel;  this 
one  shall  be  called  Ruddy." 

"  That  would  certainly  be  better  ;  it  would  at  least 


NEW    HOSTILITIES.  145 

not  be  an  insult  to  Mr.  Hahn,  but  only  to  the  tenant 
of  the  basement."    • 

"  What  do  you  mean  by  that  ?  " 

"  The  porter  who  lives  over  there  is  called  Ruddy." 

"Then,"  decided  Laura,  "the  red  monster  shall 
from  henceforth  be  named  The  Other ;  our  people 
shall  call  him  Andres.*  Tell  this  to  the  workmen  in 
the  factory." 

"Andres  !  "  replied  Gabriel.  "The  name  will  just 
suit  him.  The  neighbors  would  dignify  him  with  the 
name  of  Andreas  if  it  were  not  too  much  honor  to 
him." 

Thus  were  kind  hearts  occupied  in  thwarting  the 
bad  signification  of  the  name.  But  in  vain,  for,  as 
Laura  had  correctly  noted  in  her  diary,  when  the  ball 
of  mischief  has  been  thrown  amongst  men,  it  mer- 
cilessly hits  the  good  as  well  as  the  bad.  The  dog  was 
supplied  with  the  most  inoffensive  name  that  ever  was 
given  ;  but  through  a  wonderful  complication  of  circum- 
stances, which  bid  defiance  to  all  human  sagacity,  it 
happened  that  Mr.  Hahn  himself  bore  the  name  of 
Andreas.  Thus  the  double  name  of  the  animal  became 
a  double  affront  to  the  neighboring  house,  and  bad  and 
good  intentions  mingled  together  in  a  thick,  black  soup 
of  hatred. 

Early  in  the  morning  Mr.  Hummel  appeared  at 
the  door,  and  defiantly,  like  Ajax,  called  the  two  dogs 
by  their  hostile  names.  The  porter,  Ruddy,  heard 
the  call  in  the  cellar,  hastened  to  his  master's  room, 
and  informed  him  of  this  horrible  affront.  Mrs.  Hahn 
endeavored  not  to  believe  it,  and  maintained  that 
they  should,  at  least,  wait  for  some  confirmation. 
This  confirmation  did  not  fail  to  come ;  for  at 

*  Andres  means  "  the  other." 


146  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

noonday  Gabriel  opened  the  door  of  the  place  where 
the  dogs  were  confined,  and  made  the  creatures  come 
out  for  a  quarter  of  an  hour's  sunning  in  the  garden. 
Laura,  who  was  sitting  among  her  flowers,  and  was 
just  looking  out  for  her  secret  ideal — a  famous  singer, 
who,  with  his  glossy  black  hair  and  military  gait  was 
just  passing  by — determined, like  a  courageous  maiden, 
not  to  peer  after  her  favorite  through  the  foliage  of  the 
vine  arbor,  and  turned  toward  the  dogs.  In  order  to 
accustom  the  red  one  to  his  new  name,  she  enticed 
him  with  a  bit  of  cake,  and  called  him  several  times 
by  the  unfortunate  name,  "Andres."  At  the  same 
moment,  Dorchen  rushed  to  Mrs.  Hahn,  saying  :  "It 
is  true ;  now  even  Miss  Laura  calls  the  dog  by  the 
Christian  name  of  our  master." 

Mrs.  Hahn  stepped  to  the  window  much  shocked,  and 
herself  heard  the  name  of  her  dear  husband.  She  re- 
treated quickly,  for  this  insult  from  her  neighbors 
brought  tears  into  her  eyes,  and  she  sought  for  her 
pocket-handkerchief  to  wipe  them  awayunperceived  by 
her  maid.  Mrs.  Hahn  was  a  good  woman,  calm  and 
agreeable,  with  a  tendency  to  plumpness  and  an  inclina- 
tion quietly  to  do  anything  for  the  sake  of  peace.  But 
this  heartlessness  of  the  daughter  roused  her  anger. 
She  instantly  fetched  her  cloak  from  the  closet,  and 
went  with  the  utmost  determination  across  the  street  to 
the  garden  of  the  hostile  neighbors. 

Laura  looked  up  astonished  from  the  hideous  dogs 
to  the  unexpected  visitor,  who  came  toward  her  with 
dignified  steps. 

"I  come  to  complain,  young  lady!"  began  Mrs. 
Hahn,  without  further  greeting.  "  The  insults  that 
have  been  heaped  upon  my  husband  from  this  house 
are  insupportable.  For  your  father's  conduct  you  are 


NEW    HOSTILITIES.  147 

not  responsible ;  but  I  think  it  shocking  that  a  young 
girl  like  you  should  also  join  in  these  outrages  !  " 

"What  do  you  mean,  Mrs.  Hahn?"  asked  Laura, 
excitedly. 

"  I  mean  the  affront  of  giving  a  man's  name  to  dogs. 
You  call  your  dogs  by  all  my  husband's  names." 

"That  I  have  never  done,"  replied  Laura. 

"Do  not  deny  it,"  cried  out  Mrs. Hahn. 

"  I  never  speak  an  untruth,"  said  the  girl  proudly. 

"My  husband's  name  is  Andreas  Hahn,  and  what 
you  call  this  beast  is  heard  by  the  whole  neighbor- 
hood." 

Laura's  pride  was  roused.  "  This  is  a  misunder- 
standing, and  the  dog  is  not  so  called.  What  you  say 
is  unjust." 

"  How  is  it  unjust?"  returned  Mrs.  Hahn.  "In 
the  morning  the  father,  and  in  the  afternoon  the  daugh- 
ter call  him  so." 

A  heavy  weight  fell  on  Laura's  heart ;  she  felt  her- 
self dragged  down  into  an  abyss  of  injustice  and  in- 
jury. Her  father's  conduct  paralyzed  her  energies, 
and  tears  burst  from  her  eyes. 

"I  see  that  you  at  least  feel  the  wrong  you  are 
committing,  "continued  Mrs.  Hahn,  more  calmly.  "Do 
not  do  it  again.  Believe  me,  it  is  easy  to  pain  others, 
but  it  is  a  sorry  business,  and  my  poor  husband  and 
I  have  not  deserved  it  from  you.  We  have  seen  you 
grow  up  before  our  eyes  ;  and  even  though  we  have 
had  no  intercourse  with  your  parents,  we  have  always 
been  pleased  with  you,  and  no-one  in  our  house  has 
ever  wished  you  ill.  You  do  not  know  what  a  good  man 
Mr.  Hahn  is,  but  still  you  ought  not  to  have  behaved 
so.  Since  we  have  dwelt  here  we  have  experienced 


148  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

many  vexations  from  this  house  ;  but  that  you  should 
share  your  father's  views  pains  me  most." 

Laura  endeavored  in  vain  to  dry  her  tears.  "I 
repeat  to  you  that  you  do  me  injustice  ;  more  I  cannot 
say  in  self-justfication,  nor  will  I.  You  have  grieved 
me  more  than  you  know,  and  I  am  satisfied  that  I  have 
a  clear  conscience. " 

With  these  words  she  hastened  into  the  house,  and 
Mrs.  Hahn  returned  home,  uncertain  as  to  the  result 
of  her  visit. 

Laura  paced  up  and  down  her  little  room  wring- 
ing her  hands.  Innocent  and  yet  guilty  in  spite  of  her 
good  will,  wounded  to  the  quick,  dragged  into  a  fam- 
ily feud,  the  unhappy  results  of  which  could  not  be 
foreseen,  she  reviewed  the  events  of  the  past  day  in 
her  excited  mind.  At  last  she  seated  herself  at  her 
little  writing-table,  took  out  her  journal,  and  confided 
her  sorrows  to  this  silent  friend  bound  in  violet  leather. 
She  sought  comfort  from  the  souls  of  others  who  had 
borne  up  nobly  under  similar  griefs,  and  at  last  found 
the  confirmation  of  her  experience  in  the  expressive 
well-known  passage  of  Goethe's  Faust : 

"  Reason  doth  folly,  good  doth  evil  grow  ; 

The  child  must  reap  the  mischief  that  the  fathers  sow." 

Had  she  not  wished  to  do  what  was  reasonable  and 
kind,  and  had  not  folly  and  evil  arisen  from  it  ?  And 
had  not  misfortune  befallen  her  without  her  fault 
merely  because  she  was  a  child  of  the  house  ?  With 
this  sentence  she  closed  a  passionate  effusion.  But  in 
order  not  to  appear  to  her  conscience  devoid  of  affection, 
the  poor  child  wrote  immediately  underneath  these 
words  :  "  My  dear,  good  father."  Then  she  closed 
the  book,  feeling  more  comforted. 

But  the  severest  humiliation  to  her  was  the  feeling 


NEW    HOSTILITIES.  149 

that  she  should  be  judged  unjustly  by  the  people 
over  the  way ;  and  she  folded  her  arms  and  thought 
how  she  could  justify  herself.  She,  indeed,  could  do 
nothing ;  but  there  was  a  worthy  man  who  was  the 
confidant  of  every  one  in  the  house,  who  had  cured 
her  canary  bird  when  ill,  and  removed  a  stain  from  the 
nose  of  her  little  bust  of  Schiller.  She  resolved,  there- 
fore, to  tell  only  the  faithful  Gabriel  what  Mrs.  Hahn 
had  said,  and  not  a  word  to  her  mother  unless  obliged 
to  do  so. 

It  happened  that  toward  evening  Gabriel  and  Dor- 
chen  entered  into  conversation  in  the  street.  Dorchen 
began  to  make  bitter  complaints  of  the  spitefulness  of 
the  Hummels,  but  Gabriel  earnestly  advised  her  not 
to  allow  herself  to  be  dragged  into  these  dis- 
putes. Said  he,  "  there  must  be  some  who  take  a  neu- 
tral stand.  Be  an  angel,  Dorchen,  and  bring  peace 
and  good  will  into  the  house  ;  for  the  daughter  is  in- 
nocent." Whereupon  the  history  of  giving  the  name 
was  spoken  of,  and  Laura  honorably  acquitted. 

Then,  when  Gabriel,  a  little  later,  incidentally  re- 
marked to  Laura  :  "  This  matter  is  settled  ;  and  Mr. 
Hahn  has  said  that  it  had  at  once  appeared  to  him  im- 
probable that  you  should  be  so  ill-disposed  toward  him, " 
— a  heavy  weight  fell  from  her  heart,  and  again 
her  soft  song  sounded  through  the  house.  And  yet 
she  did  not  feel  satisfied,  for  the  annoyance  to  the 
neighboring  house  caused  by  her  father's  anger  still 
continued.  Alas  !  she  could  not  restrain  that  violent 
spirit,  but  she  must  endeavor  secretly  to  atone  for  his 
injustice.  She  pondered  over  this  while  undressing 
late  at  night ;  but  when  in  bed,  after  entertaining  and 
rejecting  many  projects,  the  right  idea  suddenly  struck 
her;  she  jumped  up  at  once,  lighted  her  candle,  and 


150  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

ran  in  her  night-dress  to  the  writing-table.  There  she 
emptied  her  purse,  and  counted  over  the  new  dol- 
lars that  her  father  had  given  her  at  Christmas  and  on 
her  birthday.  These  dollars  she  determined  to  spend 
in  a  secret  method  of  reparation.  Highly  pleased,  she 
took  the  precious  purse  to  bed  with  her,  laid  it  under 
her  pillow,  and  slept  peacefully  upon  it,  although 
the  spectral  dogs  raged  round  the  house  in  their  wild 
career,  horribly  and  incessantly. 

The  following  morning  Laura  wrote  in  large,  stiff 
characters,  on  an  empty  envelope,  Mr.  Hahn's  name 
and  address,  and  affixed  a  seal  on  which  was  the 
impression  of  a  violet  with  the  inscription,  "I  conceal 
myself,"  and  put  it  in  her  pocket.  On  her  way  to  town 
to  make  some  purchases  she  stopped  at  a  hot-house, 
the  proprietor  of  which  was  unknown  to  her.  There 
she  bought  a  bushy  plant  of  dwarf  orange,  full  of  flow- 
ers and  golden  fruit — a  splendid  specimen  of  the  green- 
house ;  with  a  beating  heart,  she  drove  in  a  closed 
cab,  till  she  found  a  porter,  to  whom  she  gave  an  ex- 
traordinary gratuity,  and  bade  him  leave  the  plant 
and  envelope  at  Mr.  Hahn's  house  without  word  or 
greeting  of  any  kind. 

The  man  performed  the  commission  faithfully. 
Dorchen  discovered  the  plant  in  the  hall,  and  it  caused 
an  agreeable  excitement  in  the  Hahn  family — fruitless 
imaginations, repeated  inspection,  and  vain  conjectures. 
"When  at  noon  Laura  peeped  through  the  arbor  into 
the  garden,  she  had  the  pleasure  of  seeing  the  orange 
plant  occupying  a  prominent  place  in  front  of  the  white 
Muse.  Beautifully  did  the  white  and  gold  of  the 
shrub  glitter  across  the  street.  Laura  stood  long  be- 
hind the  branches,  unconsciously  folding  her  hands. 
Her  soul  was  unburdened  of  the  injustice,  and  she 


TACITUS    AGAIN.  151 

turned  from  the  hostile  house  with  a  feeling  of  proud 
satisfaction. 

Meanwhile  there  was  a  complaint  issued  and  a  suit 
was  pending  between  the  two  houses,  which  was  seri- 
ously increased  on  that  very  day  by  the  adoption  of 
the  dogs'  names  "  Fighthahn"  and  "Spitehahn." 

Thus  the  peace  in  house  and  neighborhood  was 
still  disturbed.  At  first  the  pealing  of  bells  had  excited 
public  opinion  against  Mr.  Hahn,  but  this  was  entirely 
altered  by  the  introduction  of  the  dogs  :  the  whole 
street  went  over  to  the  man  of  straw  ;  the  man  of  felt 
had  all  the  world  against  him.  But  Mr.  Hummel  cared 
little  for  this.  In  the  evening  he  sat  in  the  garden  on 
the  upturned  boat,  looking  proudly  at  the  neighboring 
house,  while  Fighthahn  and  the  other  dog  sat  at  his 
feet  blinking  at  the  moon,  who  in  her  usual  way  looked 
down  maliciously  on  Mr.  Hummel,  Mr.  Hahn,  and  all 
the  rest  of  the  world. 

It  happened  on  the  following  night  that  amidst  the 
barking  of  the  dogs  and  the  light  of  the  moon  all  the 
bells  were  torn  down  from  the  temple  of  Mr.  Hahn 
and  stolen. 

CHAPTER  VIII. 
TACITUS  AGAIN. 

THERE  is  a  common  saying  that  all  lost  things  lie 
under  the  claws  of  the  Evil  One.  Whoever  searches  for 
a  thing  must  cry  :  ' '  Devil,  take  thy  paws  away. "  Then 
it  suddenly  appears  before  the  eyes  of  men.  It  was 
so  easy  to  find.  They  have  gone  round  it  a  hundred 
times.  They  have  looked  above  and  below,  and  have 
sought  it  in  the  most  improbable  places,  and  never 
thought  of  that  which  was  nearest  them.  Undoubtedly 


152  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

it  was  so  with  the  manuscript ;  it  lay  under  the  clutches 
of  the  Evil  One  or  of  some  hobgoblin,  quite  close  to 
our  friends.  If  they  were  to  stretch  out  their  hands 
they  might  lay  hold  of  it.  The  acquisition  was  only 
hindered  by  one  consideration,  by  the  single  question, 
Where  ?  Whether  this  delay  would  involve  more  or  less 
suffering  for  both  the  scholars  was  still  doubtful.  Never- 
theless, they  might  overcome  even  this  uncertainty ; 
the  main  point  was,  that  the  manuscript  really  existed 
and  lay  somewhere.  In  short,  matters  went  on  the 
whole  as  well  as  possible.  The  only  thing  missing 
was  the  manuscript. 

"I  see,  "said  the  Doctor  one  day  to  his  friend, 
"  that  you  are  strenuously  exerting  yourself  to  educate 
and  fashion  the  ideas  of  the  older  people  of  the  house- 
hold. I  put  my  hopes  in  the  souls  of  the  younger  gen- 
eration. Hans,  the  eldest,  is  very  far  from  sharing  the 
views  of  the  father  and  sister ;  he  shows  an  interest  in 
the  old  treasure,  and  if  we  ourselves  should  not  succeed 
in  making  the  discovery,  at  some  future  period  he  will 
not  spare  the  old  walls." 

In  conjunction  with  Hans,  the  Doctor  secretly 
resumed  his  investigations.  In  quiet  hours,  when  the 
Proprietor  was  unsuspectingly  riding  about  his  farm, 
and  the  Professor  working  in  his  room  or  sitting  in 
the  honeysuckle  arbor,  the  Doctor  went  prying  about 
the  house.  In  the  smock-frock  of  a  laborer,  which 
Hans  had  brought  to  his  room,  he  searched  the  dusty 
corners  of  the  house  high  and  low.  More  than  once 
he  frightened  the  female  servants  of  the  household  by 
suddenly  emerging  from  behind  some  old  bin  in  the 
cellar,  or  by  appearing  astride  on  one  of  the  rafters  of 
the  roof.  In  the  dairy  a  hole  had  been  dug  for  the 
forming  of  an  ice-pit ;  one  day  when  the  laborers  had 


TACITUS    AGAIN.  153 

gone  away  at  noon,  Mademoiselle,  the  housekeeper, 
passed  close  to  the  uncovered  pit,  suspecting  nothing. 
Suddenly,  she  beheld  a  head  without  a  body,  with 
fiery  eyes  and  bristly  hair,  which  slowly  groped  along 
the  ground  and  which  turned  its  face  to  her  with  a  de- 
risive, fiendish  laugh.  She  uttered  a  shrill  cry  and 
rushed  into  the  kitchen,  where  she  sank  fainting  on  a 
stool  and  was  only  revived  by  the  copious  sprinkling 
of  water  and  encouraging  words.  At  dinner  she  was 
so  much  troubled  that  every  one  was  struck  by  her 
uneasiness.  But  at  last  it  appeared  that  the  fiendish 
head  was  to  be  found  on  the  shoulders  of  her  neigh- 
bor, the  Doctor,  who  had  secretly  descended  into  the 
hole  to  examine  the  masonry. 

It  was  on  this  occasion  that  the  Doctor  discovered, 
with  some  degree  of  malicious  pleasure,  that  the  hos- 
pitable roof  which  protected  him  and  the  manuscript 
from  the  blast  and  storm  stood  over  an  acknowledged 
haunted  house.  There  were  strange  creakings  in  the 
old  building.  Spirits  were  frequently  seen,  and  the 
accounts  only  differed  as  to  whether  there  was  a  man 
in  a  gray  cowl,  a  child  in  a  white  shirt,  or  a  cat  as 
large  as  an  ass.  Every  one  knew  that  there  was  in 
all  parts  a  knocking,  rattling,  thundering,  and  invisible 
throwing  of  stones.  Sometimes  all  the  authority  of 
the  Proprietor  and  his  daughter  was  necessary  to  pre- 
vent the  outbreak  of  a  panic  among  the  servants. 
Even  our  friends,  in  the  quiet  of  the  night,  heard  un- 
accountable sounds,  groans,  thundering  noises,  and 
startling  knocks  on  the  wall.  These  annoyances  of  the 
house  the  Doctor  explained  to  the  satisfaction  of  the 
Proprietor  by  his  theory  of  the  old  walls.  He  made  it 
clear  that  many  generations  of  weasels,  rats,  and  mice 
had  bored  through  the  solid  walls  and  tunnelled  out  a 


154  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

system  of  covered  passages  and  strongholds.  Conse- 
quently, every  social  amusement  and  every  domestic 
disturbance  which  took  place  among  the  inmates  of 
the  wall  was  plainly  perceptible.  But  the  Doctor 
listened  with  secret  vexation  to  the  muffled  noises  of 
the  denizens  of  the  wall.  For  if  they  rushed  and 
bustled  thus  indiscriminately  around  the  manuscript, 
they  threatened  to  render  difficult  the  future  investiga- 
tions of  science.  Whenever  he  heard  a  violent  gnaw- 
ing he  could  not  help  thinking  they  were  again  eating 
away  a  line  of  the  manuscript,  which  would  make  a 
multitude  of  conjectures  necessary ;  and  it  was  not  by 
gnawing  alone  that  this  colony  of  mice  would  disfigure 
the  manuscript  that  lay  underneath  them. 

But  the  Doctor  was  compensated  by  other  dis- 
coveries for  the  great  patience  which  was  thus  de- 
manded of  him.  He  did  not  confine  his  activity  to 
the  house  and  adjoining  buildings.  He  searched  the 
neighborhood  for  old  popular  traditions  which  here 
and  there  lingered  in  the  spinning-room  and  worked  in 
the  shaky  heads  of  old  beldames.  Through  the  wife  of 
one  of  the  farm -laborers,  he  secretly  made  the  ac- 
quaintance of  an  old  crone  well  versed  in  legendary 
lore  in  the  neighboring  village.  After  the  old  woman 
had  recovered  from  her  first  alarm  at  the  title  of  the 
Doctor  and  the  fear  that  he  had  come  to  take  her  to  task 
for  incompetent  medical  practice,  she  sang  to  him, 
with  trembling  voice,  the  love  songs  of  her  youth,  and 
related  to  him  more  than  her  hearer  could  note  down. 
Every  evening  the  Doctor  brought  home  sheets  of 
paper  full  of  writing  and  soon  found  in  his  collection 
all  the  well-known  characters  of  our  popular  legends 
— wild  hunters,  wrinkled  hags,  three  white  maidens, 
many  monks,  some  shadowy  water  pixies,  sprites  who 


TACITUS   AGAIN.  155 

appeared  in  stories  as  artisan  lads,  but  undeniably 
sprang  from  a  merman ;  and  finally  many  tiny  dwarfs. 
Sometimes  Hans  accompanied  him  on  these  excur- 
sions to  the  country  people,  in  order  to  prevent  these 
visits  from  becoming  known  to  the  father  and  daughter. 
Now,  it  was  not  impossible  that  here  and  there  a  cave 
or  an  old  well  was  supplied  with  spirits  without  any 
foundation ;  for,  when  the  wise  women  of  the  village 
observed  how  much  the  Doctor  rejoiced  in  such  com- 
munications, the  old  inventive  power  of  the  people 
awoke  from  a  long  slumber.  But,  on  the  whole,  both 
parties  treated  each  other  with  truth  and  firmness, 
and,  besides,  the  Doctor  was  not  a  man  who  could 
easily  be  deceived. 

Once  when  he  was  returning  to  the  Manor  from 
one  of  these  visits  he  met  the  laborer's  wife  on  a  lonely 
foot-path.  She  looked  cautiously  about  and  at  last 
declared  that  she  had  something  to  impart  to  him  if 
he  would  not  betray  her  to  the  Proprietor.  The  Doc- 
tor promised  inviolable  secrecy.  Upon  this  the  woman 
stated,  that  in  the  cellar  of  the  manor-house,  on  the 
eastern  side,  in  the  right  hand  corner,  there  was  a 
stone,  marked  with  three  crosses  ;  behind  that  lay  the 
treasure.  She  had  heard  this  from  her  grandfather, 
who  had  it  from  his  father,  who  had  been  a  servant  at 
the  Manor  ;  and  at  that  time  the  then  Crown  Inspector 
had  wished  to  raise  the  treasure,  but  when  they  went 
in  the  cellar  for  that  purpose,  there  had  been  such  a 
fearful  crash  and  such  a  noise  that  they  ran  away  in 
terror.  But  that  the  treasure  was  there  was  cer- 
tain, for  she  had  herself  touched  the  stone,  and  the 
signs  were  distinctly  engraved  on  it.  The  cellar  was 
now  used  for  wine,  and  the  stone  was  hidden  by  a 
wooden  trestle. 


156  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

The  Doctor  received  this  communication  with  com 
posure,  but  determined  to  set  about  investigating  by 
himself.  He  did  not  say  a  word  either  to  the  Professor 
or  to  his  friend  Hans,  but  watched  for  an  opportunity. 
His  informant  sometimes  herself  carried  the  wine 
which  was  always  placed  before  the  guests,  to  the  cel- 
lar and  back.  The  next  morning  he  followed  her  boldly; 
the  woman  did  not  say  a  word  as  he  entered  the  cellar 
behind  her,  but  pointed  fearfully  to  a  corner  in  the 
wall.  The  Doctor  seized  the  lamp,  shoved  half  a 
dozen  flasks  from  their  places  and  groped  about  for 
the  stone  ;  it  was  a  large  hewn  stone  with  three  cros- 
ses. He  looked  significantly  at  the  woman — she  after- 
wards related  in  the  strictest  confidence  that  the  glasses 
before  his  eyes  shone  at  this  moment  so  fearfully  in  the 
light  of  the  lamp,  that  she  had  become  quite  terrified 
— then  he  went  silently  up  again,  determined  to  take 
advantage  of  this  discovery  on  the  first  opportunity  in 
dealing  with  the  Proprietor. 

But  a  still  greater  surprise  awaited  the  Doctor ; 
his  quiet  labor  was  supported  by  the  good  deceased 
Brother  Tobias  himself.  The  friends  descended  one 
day  to  Rossau,  accompanied  by  the  Proprietor,  who 
had  business  in  the  town.  He  conducted  his  guests 
to  the  Burgomaster,  whom  he  requested  to  lay  before 
the  gentlemen,  as  trustworthy  men,  whatever  old 
writings  were  in  the  possession  of  the  authorities. 
The  Burgomaster,  who  was  a  respectable  tanner,  put 
on  his  coat  and  took  the  learned  men  to  the  old  mon- 
astery. There  was  not  much  to  be  seen ;  only  the 
outer  walls  of  the  old  building  remained  ;  the  minor 
officials  of  the  crown  dwelt  in  the  new  parts.  Con- 
cerning the  archives  of  the  council  the  Burgomaster 
suggested  as  probable  that  there  would  not  be  much 


TACITUS    AGAIN.  157 

found  in  them ;  in  this  matter  he  recommended  the 
gentlemen  to  the  town-clerk,  and  went  himself  to  the 
club  in  order,  after  his  onerous  duties,  to  enjoy  a  quiet 
little  game  of  cards. 

The  town-clerk  bowed  respectfully  to  his  literary 
colleagues,  laid  hold  of  a  rusty  bunch  of  keys,  and 
opened  the  small  vault  of  the  city  hall,  where  the  an- 
cient records,  covered  with  thick  dust,  awaited  the 
time  in  which  their  quiet  life  was  to  be  ended  under 
the  stamping  machine  of  a  paper  mill.  The  town-clerk 
had  some  knowledge  of  the  papers  ;  he  understood 
fully  the  importance  of  the  communication  which  was 
expected  from  him,  but  assured  them  with  perfect  truth 
that,  owing  to  two  fires  in  the  town  and  the  disorders 
of  former  times,  every  old  history  had  been  lost.  There 
were  also  no  records  to  be.  found  in  any  private  house  ; 
only  in  the  printed  chronicles  of  a  neighboring  town 
some  notices  were  preserved  concerning  the  fate  of 
Rossau  in  the  Thirty  Years'  War.  After  the  war,  the 
place  had  been  left  a  heap  of  ruins  and  almost  unin- 
habited. Since  that  time  the  town  had  lived  along 
without  a  history,  and  the  town-clerk  assured  them 
that  nothing  was  known  here  of  the  olden  time,  and 
no  one  cared  about  it.  Perhaps  something  about  the 
town  might  be  learnt  at  the  Capital. 

Our  friends  continued  to  walk  unweariedly  from 
one  intelligent  man  to  another,  making  inquiries,  as 
in  the  fairy  tale,  after  the  bird  with  the  golden  feather. 
Two  little  gnomes  had  known  nothing,  but  now  there 
remained  a  third — so  they  went  to  the  Roman  Catholic 
priest.  A  little  old  gentleman  received  them  with  pro- 
found bows.  The  Professor  explained  to  him,  that  he 
was  seeking  information  concerning  the  ultimate  fate 
of  the  monastery — above  all,  what  had  happened  in 


158  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

his  closing  years  to  the  last  monk,  the  venerable  To- 
bias Bachhuber. 

"In  those  days  no  register  of  deaths  was  required," 
replied  the  ecclesiastic.  "Therefore,  my  dear  sirs, 
I  cannot  promise  to  give  you  any  information.  Yet,  if 
it  is  only  a  question  of  yourselves,  and  you  do  not  wish 
to  extract  anything  from  the  old  writings  disadvanta- 
geous to  the  Church,  I  am  willing  to  show  you  the 
oldest  of  the  existing  books."  He  went  into  a  room 
and  brought  out  a  long  thin  book,  the  edges  of  which 
had  been  injured  by  the  mould  of  the  damp  room. 
"Here  are  some  notices  of  my  predecessors  who  rest 
with  the  Lord ;  perhaps  they  may  be  useful  to  the  gen- 
tlemen. More  I  cannot  do,  because  there  is  nothing 
else  of  the  kind  existing." 

On  the  introductory  page  there  was  a  register  of 
the  ecclesiastical  dignitaries  of  the  place  in  Latin.  One 
of  the  first  notices  was  :  "In  the  year  of  our  Lord 
1637,  and  in  the  month  of  May,  our  venerated  brother 
Tobias  Bachhuber,  the  last  monk  of  this  monastery, 
died  of  the  plague.  The  Lord  be  merciful  to  him." 

The  Professor  showed  the  passage  silently  to  his 
friend  the  Doctor,  who  wrote  down  the  Latin  words  ; 
they  then  returned  the  book  with  thanks  and  took 
their  leave. 

"The  manuscript  after  all  lies  in  the  house,"  said 
the  Professor,  as  they  went  along  the  street.  The 
Doctor  thought  of  the  three  crosses  and  laughed  quietly 
to  himself;  he  had  in  no  way  assented  to  the  tactics 
which  his  friend  thought  fit  to  adopt  for  the  discovery 
of  the  manuscript.  When  the  Professor  maintained 
that  their  only  hope  rested  on  the  sympathy  which 
they  might  by  degrees  awaken  in  their  host,  the  Doc- 
tor entertained  the  suspicion  that  his  friend  was  brought 


TACITUS   AGAIN.  159 

to  this  slow  way  of  carrying  on  the  war  not  by  pure 
zeal  for  the  manuscript. 

The  Proprietor,  however,  maintained  an  obstinate 
silence  regarding  the  manuscript.  If  the  Doctor 
threw  out  any  hint  upon  the  subject,  the  host  made  a 
wry  grimace  and  immediately  changed  the  conversa- 
tion. It  was  necessary  to  put  an  end  to  this.  The 
Doctor  now  determined  to  insist  upon  a  decision  be- 
fore his  departure.  When,  therefore,  they  were  sit- 
ting together  in  the  garden  in  the  evening,  and  the 
Proprietor  was  looking  cheerfully  and  calmly  on  his 
fruit  trees,  the  Doctor  began  the  attack  : 

"I  cannot  leave  this  place,  my  hospitable  friend, 
without  reminding  you  of  our  contract." 

"Of  what  contract?"  inquired  their  host,  like  one 
who  did  not  remember  it. 

"Regarding  the  manuscript,"  continued  the  Doc- 
tor, with  emphasis,  "which  lies  concealed  in  this 
place." 

Indeed  !  why  you  yourself  said  that  every  place 
sounds  hollow.  So  we  would  have  to  tear  down  the 
house  from  roof  to  cellar.  I  should  think  we  might 
wait  till  next  spring,  when  you  come  to  us  again ;  for 
we  should  be  obliged,  under  these  circumstances,  to 
live  in  the  barns,  which  now  are  full." 

"The  house  may,  for  the  present,  remain  stand- 
ing," said  the  Doctor;  "but  if  you  still  think  that  the 
monks  took  away  their  monastic  property,  there  is 
one  circumstance  which  goes  against  your  view.  We 
have  discovered  at  Rossau  that  the  worthy  friar,  who 
had  concealed  the  things  here  in  April,  died  of  the 
pestilence  as  early  as  May,  according  to  the  church 
register;  here  is  a  'copy  of  the  entry.'" 

The  Proprietor  looked  at  the  Doctor's  memoran- 


l6o  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

dum  book,  closed  it  and  said:  "Then  his  brother 
monks  have  taken  away  the  property." 

"That  is  scarcely  possible,"  replied  the  Doctor, 
"for  he  was  the  last  of  his  order  in  the  monastery." 

"  Then  some  of  the  city  people  have  taken  it." 

"But  the  inhabitants  of  the  town  abandoned  it 
then,  and  the  place  lay  for  years  desolate,  in  ruins  and 
uninhabited." 

"Humph  !  "  began  the  Proprietor,  in  good  humor  ; 
"the  learned  gentlemen  are  strict  creditors  and  know 
how  to  insists  upon  their  rights.  Tell  me  straightfor- 
wardly what  you  want  of  me.  You  must,  first  of  all, 
point  out  to  me  some  place  that  appears  suspicious, 
not  only  to  you,  but  also  to  the  judgment  of  others ; 
and  that  you  cannot  do  with  any  certainty." 

"  I  know  of  such  a  place,"  answered  the  Doctor, 
boldly,  "and  I  wish  to  suggest  to  you  that  the  treas- 
ure lies  there." 

The  Professor  and  the  Proprietor  looked  on  him 
with  astonishment. 

"  Follow  me  into  the  cellar,"  cried  the  Doctor. 

A  candle  was  lighted  ;  the  Doctor  led  the  way  to 
the  place  where  the  wine  lay. 

"What  gives  you  such  victorious  confidence?" 
inquired  the  Professor,  on  the  way,  in  a  low  voice. 

"I  suspect  that  you  have  your  secrets,"  replied  the 
Doctor  ;  "  permit  me  to  have  mine." 

He  quickly  removed  the  bottles  from  the  corner, 
threw  the  light  on  the  stone,  and  knocked  on  the  wall 
with  a  large  key. 

"  The  place  is  hollow  and  the  stone  has  a  peculiar 
mark." 

"It  is  true,"  said  the  Proprietor ;  "there  is  an 
empty  space  behind  it ;  it  is  certainly  not  small.  But 


TACITUS    AGAIN.  l6l 

the  stone  is  one  of  the  foundation  stones  of  the  house, 
and  has  not  the  appearance  of  ever  having  been  re- 
moved from  its  place." 

"  After  so  long  a  time,  it  would  be  difficult  to  de- 
termine that,"  rejoined  the  Doctor. 

The  Proprietor  examined  the  wall  himself. 

"A  large  slab  lies  over  it.  It  would,  perhaps,  be 
possible  to  raise  the  marked  stone  from  its  place."  He 
considered  for  a  moment,  and  then  continued  :  "  I  see 
I  must  let  you  have  your  own  way.  I  will  thus  make 
compensation  for  the  first  hour  of  our  acquaintance, 
which  has  always  lain  heavy  on  my  conscience.  As 
we  three  are  here  in  the  cellar  like  conspirators,  we 
will  enter  into  an  agreement.  I  will  at  once  do  what  I 
consider  to  be  very  useless.  In  return,  whenever  you 
speak  or  write  upon  the  subject,  you  must  not  refuse 
to  bear  testimony  that  I  have  given  in  to  every  reason- 
able wish." 

"We  shall  see  what  can  be  done,"  replied  the 
Doctor. 

"Very  well.  In  the  stone  quarry  at  the  extremity 
of  my  property  I  have  some  extra  hands  at  work ;  they 
shall  remove  the  stone  and  then  restore  it  to  its  place. 
Thus,  I  hope,  the  affair  will  be  forever  settled.  Use, 
early  in  the  morning  let  the  shelving  be  removed  from 
the  wine-cellar." 

The  following  day  the  stone-masons  came,  and  the 
three  gentlemen  and  Use  descended  into  the  cellar, 
and  looked  on  curiously  while  the  men  exerted  their 
power  with  pickaxe  and  crowbar  on  the  square  ston-e. 
It  was  placed  upon  the  rock,  and  great  exertions  were 
necessary  to  loosen  it.  But  the  people  themselves  de- 
clared that  there  was  a  great  cavity  behind,  and  worked 
with  a  zeal  that  was  increased  by  the  repute  of  the 


1 62  THE    LOST   MANUSCRIPT. 

haunted  house.  At  last  the  stone  was  moved  and  a 
dark  opening  became  visible.  The  spectators  ap- 
proached— both  the  scholars  in  anxious  suspense ; 
their  host  and  his  daughter  also  full  of  expectation. 
One  of  the  stone-masons  hastily  seized  the  light  and 
held  it  before  the  opening.  A  slight  vapor  came  out ; 
the  man  drew  back  alarmed. 

"There  is  something  white  in  there,"  he  cried, 
full  of  fear  and  hope. 

Use  looked  at  the  Professor,  who  with  difficulty 
controlled  the  excitement  that  worked  in  his  face.  He 
grasped  the  light;  but  she  kept  it  from  him,  and  cried 
out,  anxiously:  "Not  you."  She  hastened  to  the 
opening  and  thrust  her  hand  into  the  hollow  space. 
She  laid  hold  of  something  tangible.  A  rattling  was 
heard  ;  she  quickly  withdrew  her  hand  ;  but,  terrified 
threw  what  she  had  laid  hold  of  on  the  ground.  It  was 
a  bone. 

All  gazed  in  horror  at  the  object  on  the  ground. 

"This  is  a  serious  answer  to  your  question,"  ex- 
claimed the  Proprietor.  "We  pay  a  dear  price  for 
our  sport." 

He  took  the  light  and  himself  searched  the  open- 
ing ;  a  heap  of  bones  lay  there.  The  others  stood 
around  in  uncomfortable  silence.  At  last  the  Pro- 
prietor threw  a  skull  out  into  the  cellar,  and  cried  out 
cheerfully,  as  a  man  who  is  relieved  from  painful  feel- 
ing: 

"They  are  the  bones  of  a  dog  !" 

"It  was  a  small  dog,"  assented  the  stone-mason, 
striking  the  bone  with  his  pick.  The  rotten  bone  broke 
in  pieces. 

"A  dog!"  cried  the  Doctor,  delighted,  forgetting 


TACITUS    AGAIN.  163 

for  a  moment  his  blighted  hope.  "That  is  instructive. 
The  foundation  wall  of  this  house  must  be  very  old." 

"I  am  rejoiced  that  you  are  contented  with  this 
discovery,"  replied  the  Proprietor,  ironically. 

But  the  Doctor  would  not  be  disconcerted,  and  re- 
lated how,  in  the  early  middle  ages,  there  had  been  a 
superstitious  custom  of  enclosing  something  living  in 
the  foundation-wall  of  solid  buildings.  The  custom 
descended  from  the  ancient  heathen  times.  The  cases 
were  rare  where  such  things  were  found  in  old  build- 
ings, and  the  skeleton  now  found  was  an  indisputable 
confirmation  of  the  custom. 

"If  it  confirms  your  views,"  said  the  Proprietor, 
"it  confirms  mine  also.  Hasten,  men,  to  replace  the 
stone." 

Then  the  stone-mason  lighted  up  and  felt  again  in 
the  opening  and  declared  that  there  was  nothing  more 
there.  The  workmen  restored  the  stone  to  its  place, 
the  wine  was  replaced  and  the  matter  settled.  The 
Doctor  bore  the  jeering  remarks,  of  which  the  Propri- 
etor was  not  sparing,  with  great  tranquillity,  and  said 
to  him  : 

"What  we  have  discovered  is  certainly  not  much  ; 
but  we  know  now  with  certainty  that  the  manuscript  is 
not  to  be  found  in  this  part  of  your  house,  but  in  some 
other.  I  take  with  me  a  careful  record  of  all  the  hol- 
low places  in  your  house,  and  we  do  not  give  up  OUT 
claims  in  regard  to  this  discovery ;  but  we  consider 
you  from  now  on  as  a  man  who  has  borrowed  the 
manuscript  for  his  own  private  use  for  an  indefinite 
time,  and  I  assure  you  that  our  wishes  and  desires  will 
incessantly  hover  about  this  building." 

"  Pray  allow  the  persons  who  dwell  there  to  par- 
ticipate in  your  good  wishes,"  replied  the  Proprietor, 


164  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

smiling,  and  do  not  forget  that  in  your  researches  after 
the  manuscript  you  have  in  reality  found  the  dog.  For 
the  rest,  I  hope  that  this  discovery  will  free  my  house 
from  the  ill-repute  of  containing  treasures,  and  for  the 
sake  of  this  gain  I  will  be  quite  content  with  the  use- 
less work. " 

"  That  is  the  greatest  error  of  your  life,"  replied 
the  Doctor,  with  grave  consideration  ;  "just  the  re- 
verse will  take  place.  All  people  who  have  an  inclina- 
tion for  hidden  treasure  will  take  the  discovery  in  this 
light,  that  you  are  deficient  in  faith  and  have  not 
employed  the  necessary  solemnities,  therefore  the 
treasure  is  removed  from  your  eyes  and  the  dog  placed 
there  as  a  punishment.  I  know  better  than  you 
what  your  neighbors  will  record  for  posterity.  Tarry 
in  peace  for  your  awakening,  Tacitus  !  Your  most 
steadfast  friend  departs,  and  he  whom  I  leave  behind 
begins  to  make  undue  concessions  to  this  household." 

He  looked  earnestly  at  the  Professor  and  called 
Hans  to  accompany  him  on  a  visit  to  the  village,  in 
order  to  take  a  grateful  leave  of  his  old  crones,  and 
to  obtain  one  of  the  beautiful  songs  of  the  people,  of 
which  he  had  discovered  traces,  to  take  home  with 
him. 

He  was  gone  a  long  time ;  for  after  the  song  there 
came  to  light  unexpectedly  a  wonderful  story  of  a  cer- 
tain Sir  Dietrich  and  his  horse,  which  breathed  fire. 

When,  toward  evening,  the  Professor  was  looking 
out  for  him,  he  met  Use  who,  with  her  straw  hat  in 
her  hand,  was  prepared  for  a  walk. 

"If  you  like,"  she  said,  "  we  will  go  to  meet  your 
friend." 

They   walked   along  a  meadow  between  stubble- 


TACITUS    AGAIN.  165 

fields,  in  which  here  and  there  grass  was  to  be  seen 
peeping  up  amongst  the  stubble. 

"The  autumn  approaches,"  remarked  the  Profes- 
sor; "that  is  the  first  sign." 

"Winter-time  is  tedious  to  some  people,"  answered 
Use,  "but  it  puts  us,  like  Till  Eulenspiegel,  in  good 
spirits,- for  we  enjoy  its  repose,  and  think  of  the  ap- 
proaching spring  ;  and  when  the  stormy  winds  rage 
round  us,  and  the  snow  drifts  to  a  man's  height  in  the 
valleys,  we  sit  at  home  in  warmth  and  comfort." 

"With  us  in  the  city  the  winter  passes  away  almost 
unheeded.  The  short  days  and  the  white  roofs  alone 
remind  us  of  it,  for  our  work  goes  on  independently  of 
changing  seasons.  Yet  the  fall  of  the  leaf  has  from 
my  childhood  been  depressing  to  me,  and  in  the  spring 
I  always  desire  to  throw  aside  my  books  and  ramble 
through  the  country  like  a  traveling  journeyman." 

They  were  standing  by  a  bundle  of  sheaves.  Use 
arranged  some  of  them  as  a  seat,  and  looked  over  the 
fields  to  the  distant  hills. 

"How  different  it  is  with  us  here,"  she  began 
after  a  pause.  "  We  are  like  the  birds  which  year 
after  year  joyously  flap  their  wings  and  live  in  content- 
ment. But  you  think  and  care  about  other  times  and 
other  men  that  existed  long  before  us.  You  are  as 
familiar  with  the  past  as  we  are  with  the  rising  of  the 
sun  and  the  forms  of  the  stars.  If  the  end  of  summer 
is  sorrowful  to  you,  it  is  equally  as  sorrowful  to  me  to 
hear  and  read  of  past  times.  Books  of  history  make 
me  very  sad.  There  is  so  much  unhappiness  on  earth, 
and  it  is  always  the  good  that  come  to  a  sorrowful  end. 
I  then  become  presumptuous,  and  ask  why  God  has 
thus  ordered  it  ?  It  is  really  very  foolish  to  feel  thus. 
But  for  that  reason  I  do  not  like  to  read  history." 


l66  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

"  I  well  understand  that  frame  of  mind,"  answered 
the  Professor.  "For  wherever  men  seek  to  enforce 
their  will  in  opposition  to  their  time  and  nation,  inva- 
riably they  meet  the  fate  that  befalls  the  weak.  Even 
that  which  the  strongest  accomplish  has  no  permanent 
lastingness.  And  as  men  and  their  works  disappear, 
so  do  peoples.  But  we  should  not  irrevocably  attach 
our  hearts  to  the  fate  of  a  single  man  or  a  single  nation, 
we  should  rather  strive  to  understand  why  they  have 
grown  great,  and  why  they  have  perished,  and  what 
was  the  abiding  gain  that  through  their  life  the  human 
race  has  eternally  won.  The  account  of  their  fortunes 
will  then  become  but  a  veil,  behind  which  we  discover 
the  operation  of  other  forces  and  powers  of  life.  We 
learn  that  in  the  men  that  succumb  in  this  great  strug- 
gle and  in  the  nations  that  decline,  a  still  higher  hidden 
life  dominates,  which  lives  on  creating  and  destroying 
in  rigid  accordance  with  eternal  laws.  To  discover 
the  laws  of  this  higher  life  and  to  feel,  to  experience 
the  blessing  that  this  creating  and  destruction  has 
brought  into  our  existence,  that  is  the  duty  and  the 
ambition  of  the  historian.  From  this  point  of  view 
dissolution  and  death  are  transformation  into  new 
life.  And  they  who  have  learned  thus  to  look  upon 
and  observe  the  past — for  them  its  study  increases  their 
security  and  ennobles  their  heart." 

Use  shook  her  head  and  cast  down  her  eyes. 

"And  the  Roman  whose  lost  book  brought  you  to 
us,  and  of  which  you  have  been  talking  to-day — is  he 
interesting  to  you  because  he  looked  upon  the  world 
in  the  cheerful  light  that  you  do  ?" 

"No,"  answered  the  Professor,  "it  is  just  the  re- 
verse that  impresses  one  in  his  work.  His  serious 
mind  was  never  borne  aloft  by  joyful  confidence.  The 


TACITUS    AGAIN.  167 

fate  of  his  nation,  the  future  of  men,  lay  like  a  dark 
impenetrable  riddle  heavily  upon  his  soul.  In  the  past 
he  saw  a  better  time,  freer  government,  stronger  men, 
purer  morals.  In  his  own  people  and  his  own  state 
he  saw  decadence  and  dissolution,  which  even  good 
rulers  no  longer  could  retard.  It  is  affecting  to  see 
how  that  high-minded,  thoughtful  man  struggled  in 
doubt.  For  he  doubted  whether  the  horrible  fate  of 
millions  was  the  punishment  of  the  Deity  or  the  con- 
sequence that  no  God  cared  for  the  lot  of  mortals. 
Forebodingly  and  ironically  he  contemplates  the  his- 
tory of  individuals.  To  him  the  course  of  wisdom 
seems  to  be  to  bear  the  inevitable  silently  and  pa- 
tiently. When,  even  for  a  moment,  a  brief  smile  curls 
his  lips,  one  perceives  that  he  is  looking  into  a  hope- 
less desert ;  one  can  imagine  fear  visible  in  his  eyes, 
and  the  rigid  expression  which  remains  on  one  who 
has  been  shaken  to  the  innermost  core  by  deadly  hor- 
rors." 

"That  is  sad,"  exclaimed  Use. 

"  Yes,  it  is  fearful.  And  it  is  difficult  to  understand 
how  any  one  could  endure  life,  burdened  by  such  des- 
pair. The  joyful  satisfaction  of  belonging  to  a  nation 
of  growing  vigor  was  not  then  the  lot  of  either  heathen 
or  Christian.  It  is  the  highest  and  most  indestructible 
happiness  of  man  to  have  confidence  in  that  which 
exists,  and  to  look  with  hope  to  the  future.  And  such 
is  our  life  now.  Much  that  is  weak,  corrupt,  and  per- 
ishable surrounds  us.  But  with  it  all  there  is  growing 
up  an  endless  abundance  of  youthful  vigor.  The  root 
and  the  trunk  of  our  popular  life  are  sound.  Every- 
where do  we  find  sincerity  in  family-life,  respect  for 
morals  and  law,  sturdy  and  solid  labor,  everywhere 
energetic  activity.  In  many  thousands  we  find  the 


1 68  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

consciousness  that  they  are  increasing  the  national 
strength,  and  in  millions  that  are  still  far  behind  them 
the  feeling  that  they  also  are  laboring  to  contribute  to 
our  civilization.  This  is  our  pleasure  and  glory  in 
modern  times,  and  helps  to  make  us  valiant  and  proud. 
We  well  know,  indeed,  that  the  joyful  feeling  of  this 
possession  may  also  be  saddened  ;  for  temporary  dis- 
turbances come  to  every  nation  in  the  course  of  its 
development.  But  its  progress  and  prosperity  of 
thriving  cannot  be  thwarted,  nor  its  career  hindered,  so 
long  as  these  securities  of  power  and  soundness  exist. 
It  is  this  that  gives  happiness  to  him  whose  vocation 
it  is  to  investigate  the  past,  for  he  looks  down  from 
the  salubrious  air  of  the  heights  into  the  darkness  be- 
neath him." 

Use  gazed  on  him  with  wonder  and  admiration, 
but  he  bent  over  the  sheaves  which  were  between 
them  and  continued  with  enthusiasm  : 

"Each  one  of  us  derives  the  judgment  and  habit 
of  mind  with  which  he  regards  the  great  relations  of 
the  world,  from  the  sphere  of  his  own  personal  expe- 
rience. Look  about  you.  Here  at  the  laughing  sum- 
mer landscape,  yonder  at  the  busy  workingmen,  and 
then  at  that  which  lies  nearest  your  heart — at  your 
own  home  and  the  circle  in  which  you  have  grown  to 
womanhood.  How  gentle  the  light,  how  warm  the 
hearts,  how  wise  and  good  and  true  the  minds  that 
surround  you  !  And  think  what  an  inestimable  gain 
it  is  for  me,  to  see  this,  and  to  enjoy  it — -enjoy  it  by 
your  side.  And  when,  poring  over  my  books,  I  here- 
after shall  vividly  feel  how  valiant  and  noble,  how 
sturdy  and  true  is  the  life  of  my  countrymen  about 
me,  I  shall  evermore  in  my  inmost  heart  pay,  for  that, 
a  tribute  of  thankfulness  to  you." 


TACITUS    AGAIN.  169 

He  stretched  out  his  hand  across  the  sheaves  ;  Use 
seized  it,  and  clasped  it  between  hers.  A  warm  tear 
fell  upon  it.  She  looked  at  him  with  her  moistened 
eyes,  while  a  world  of  happiness  lay  in  her  countenance. 
Gradually  a  bright  glow  suffused  her  cheeks,  she  rose, 
and  a  look  full  of  devoted  tenderness  fell  upon  him ; 
then  she  walked  hastily  away  from  him  adown  the 
meadow. 

The  Professor  remained  leaning  against  the  sheaves. 
The  meadow-larks  on  the  tips  of  the  ears  of  grain  over 
his  head  warbled  joyfully.  He  pressed  his  cheek 
against  the  stack  which  half  concealed  him  ;  thus,  in 
happy  forgetfulness,  he  watched  the  girl  descending 
toward  the  distant  laborers. 

When  he  raised  his  eyes  his  friend  was  standing 
by  him ;  he  beheld  a  countenance  which  quivered  with 
inward  sympathy,  and  heard  the  gentle  question  : 

"  What  will  come  of  it  ?  " 

"  Husband  and  wife,"  said  the  Professor  decidedly; 
he  pressed  his  friend's  hands,  and  strode  across  the 
fields  to  the  songs  of  the  larks  which  greeted  him  from 
every  sheaf. 

Fritz  was  alone.  The  word  had  been  spoken.  A 
new  and  awful  fate  overshadowed  the  life  of  his  friend. 
So  this  was  to  be  the  end  of  it  ?  Thusnelda,  instead 
of  Tacitus  !  Fritz  felt  alas  !  that  the  social  custom  of 
marriage  might  be  a  very  venerable  institution.  It 
was  inevitable  that  most  men  pass  through  the  uprooting 
struggle  which  is  the  consequence  of  a  change  in  the 
mutual  relations  of  life.  He  could  not  think  of  his 
friend  amid  his  books,  with  his  colleagues,  and  this 
woman.  He  felt  painfully  that  his  relation  to  the  Pro- 
fessor must  be  changed  by  it.  But  he  did  not  think  long 
of  himself,  but  anxiously  worried  about  his  rash  friend ; 


I7O  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

and  not  less  about  her  who  had  so  dangerously  im- 
pressed the  soul  of  the  other.  The  faithful  rash  friend 
looked  angrily  upon  the  surrounding  stubble  and  straw, 
and  he  clenched  his  fists  against  the  deceased  Bach- 
huber  ;  against  the  valley  of  Rossau  ;  nay,  even  against 
the  immediate  cause  of  this  mischievous  confusion — 
against  the  manuscript  of  Tacitus. 

CHAPTER  IX. 
ILSE. 

SINCE  the  death  of  her  mother  Use  had  lived  an  un- 
varied home  life.  Though  then  scarcely  grown  up, 
she  had  taken  charge  of  the  household.  Spring  and 
autumn  came  and  went.  One  year  rolled  over  her 
head  like  another.  Her  father  and  sisters,  the  estate, 
the  laborers,  and  the  poor  of  the  valley — these  formed 
her  life.  More  than  once  a  suitor,  a  sturdy,  worthy 
proprietor  of  the  neighborhood,  had  asked  her  hand  in 
marriage.  But  she  felt  contented  with  her  home, 
and  she  knew  that  her  father  wished  her  to  remain  with 
him.  In  the  evening,  when  the  active  man  rested 
on  the  sofa,  and  the  children  were  sent  to  bed  she 
sat  silently  by  him  with  her  embroidery,  or  talked 
over  the  small  occurrences  of  the  day — the  illness  of 
a  laborer,  the  damage  done  by  a  hail  storm  or  the 
name  of  the  new  milch  cow.  It  was  a  lonely  country. 
Much  of  it  was  woodland.  Most  of  the  estates  were 
small.  There  were  no  rich  neighbors.  And  the  father, 
who  had  worked  his  way  by  his  energy  until  he  be- 
came an  opulent  man,  had  no  inclination  for  society 
life,  nor  had  his  daughter.  On  Sunday  the  Pastor 
came  to  dinner,  and  then  the  father's  farm-inspectors 
remained  and  related  the  little  gossip  of  the  neighbor- 


ILSE.  171 

hood  over  their  coffee  ;  the  children,  who,  during  the 
week,  were  under  the  charge  of  a  tutor,  amused  them- 
selves in  the  garden  and  fields.  When  Use  had  a  leis- 
ure hour  she  seated  herself  in  her  own  little  sitting- 
room  with  a  book  out  of  her  father's  small  library — a 
novel  by  Walter  Scott,  a  tale  by  Hauff,  or  a  volume 
of  Schiller. 

But  now  a  profusion  of  thoughts,  images,  and  feel- 
ing had  been  awakened  in  her  mind  by  this  stranger. 
Much  that  she  had  hitherto  looked  upon  with  indiffer- 
ence in  the  outer  world  now  became  interesting  to 
her.  Like  fire-works  which  unexpectedly  shoot  up, 
illuminating  particular  spots  in  the  landscape  with 
their  colored  light,  his  conversation  threw  a  fascinat- 
ing light,  now  here  and  now  there,  on  a  life  that  was 
strange  to  her.  When  he  spoke,  when  his  words, 
copious  and  choice,  flowed  from  his  innermost  heart 
— she  bent  her  head  as  in  a  dream,  then  fixed  her 
eyes  on  his  face.  She  felt  a  respect  commingled  with 
fear  for  a  human  mind  that  soared  so  loftily  and  firmly 
above  the  earth.  He  spoke  of  the  past  as  intimately 
as  of  the  present ;  he  knew  how  to  explain  the  secret 
thoughts  of  men  who  had  lived  a  thousand  years  ago. 
Ah  !  she  felt  the  glory  and  greatness  of  human  learn- 
ing to  be  the  merit  and  greatness  of  the  man  who  sat 
opposite  to  her.  The  intellectual  labor  of  the  centuries 
appeared  to  her  as  a  supernatural  being  which  pro- 
claimed from  a  human  mouth  things  unheard  of  in  her 
home. 

But  it  was  not  learning  alone.  When  she  looked 
up  at  him,  she  saw  beaming  eyes,  a  kindly  expression 
about  the  eloquent  lips,  and  she  felt  herself  irresistibly 
attracted  by  the  warmth  of  the  man's  nature.  Then 
she  sat  opposite  to  him  as  a  quiet  listener.  But  when 


172  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

she  entered  her  room,  she  knelt  down  and  covered 
her  face  with  her  hands.  In  this  solitude  she  saw  him 
before  her  and  offered  him  homage. 

Thus  she  awoke  to  a  new  life.  It  was  a  state  of 
pure  enthusiasm,  of  unselfish  rapture,  such  as  a  man 
knows  not  and  only  a  woman  can  experience, — which 
comes  only  to  a  pure,  innocent  heart  when  the  greatest 
crisis  of  earthly  existence  visits  a  sensitive  soul  in  the 
bloom  of  life. 

She  saw  also  that  her  father  was  partially  under  the 
same  magical  influence.  At  dinner,  which  used  to  be  so 
silent,  conversation  now  flowed  as  from  a  living  spring  ; 
in  the  evening,  when  formerly  he  used  to  sit  wearily 
over  the  newspaper,  many  things  were  now  discussed, 
and  there  were  frequent  disputes  which  lasted  late 
into  the  night.  Her  father,  when  he  took  his  bed- 
room candle  from  the  table,  was  always  in  cheerful 
humor ;  and  more  than  once  he  repeated  to  himself, 
pacing  up  and  down,  sentences  that  had  been  uttered 
by  his  guest.  "He  is,  in  his  way,  a  fine  man,"  he 
said;  "in  all  things  stable  and  sound;  one  always 
knows  how  to  take  him." 

Occasionally  she  was  alarmed  at  the  Professor's 
opinions.  The  two  friends,  indeed,  avoided  what 
might  wound  the  deep  faith  of  their  gentle  hearer, 
but  in  the  conversation  of  the  Professor  there  some- 
times seemed  to  lie  hidden  a  different  conception  of 
venerated  doctrines  and  of  human  duties ;  and  yet, 
what  he  maintained  was  so  noble  and  good  that  she 
could  not  guard  herself  against  it  by  her  own  reason- 
ing. 

He  was  often  vehement  in  his  expressions  ;  when 
he  condemned  a  thing  he  did  it  in  forcible  language, 
and  sometimes  became  so  vehement  that  the  Doctor 


ILSE.  173 

and  even  her  father  withdrew  from  the  contest.  She 
thought  then  that  he  was  different  from  almost  all 
men — prouder,  nobler,  and  more  decided.  When  he 
expected  much  of  others,  as  is  natural  to  one  who  has 
lived  in  closer  intercourse  with  the  ideal  world  than 
with  real  life,  it  alarmed  her  to  think  in  what  light  she 
must  appear  to  him.  But,  on  the  other  hand,  this 
same  man  was  ready  to  acknowledge  everything  that 
was  good,  and  he  rejoiced  like  a  child  when  he  learned 
that  any  one  had  shown  himself  brave  and  energetic. 

He  was  a  serious  man,  and  yet  he  had  become 
a  favorite  with  the  children,  even  more  than  the 
Doctor.  They  confided  their  little  secrets  to  him,  he 
visited  them  in  their  nursery,  and  gave  them  advice 
according  to  his  youthful  recollections,  as  to  how  they 
should  make  a  large  paper  kite  ;  he  himself  painted 
the  eyes  and  the  mustache,  and  cut  the  tassels  for  the 
tail.  It  was  a  joyful  day  when  the  kite  rose  from  the 
"stubble-field  for  the  first  time.  Then,  when  evening 
came,  he  sat  down,  surrounded  by  the  children,  like 
the  partridge  amongst  her  young.  Franz  climbed  up 
the  arm-chair  and  played  with  his  hair  ;  one  of  the 
bigger  ones  sat  on  each  knee.  Then  riddles  were  pro- 
pounded and  stories  told.  And  when  Use  heard  how 
he  repeated  and  taught  small  rhymes  to  the  children, 
her  heart  swelled  with  joy  that  such  a  mind  should 
hold  such  intimate  intercourse  with  simple  children. 
And  she  watched  his  countenance  and  saw  a  child-like 
expression  light  up  the  features  of  the  man,  laughing 
and  happy ;  and  she  imagined  him  as  a  little  boy,  sit- 
ting on  his  mother's  lap.  Happy  mother  ! 

Then  came  the  hour  among  the  sheaves,  the  learned 
discourse  which  began  with  Tacitus  and  ended  with  a 
silent  acknowledgment  of  love.  The  blessed  cheerful- 


174  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

ness  of  his  countenance,  the  trembling  sound  of  his 
voice,  had  torn  away  the  veil  that  concealed  her  own 
agitated  feelings.  She  now  knew  that  she  loved  him 
deeply  and  eternally,  and  she  had  a  conviction  that  he 
felt  just  as  she  did.  He,  who  was  so  greatly  her  supe- 
rior, had  condescended  to  her  ;  she  had  felt  his  warm 
breath  and  the  quick  pressure  of  his  hand.  As  she 
passed  through  the  field,  a  glow  suffused  her  cheeks  ; 
the  earth  and  heaven,  fields  and  sun-lit  wood,  floated 
before  her  like  luminous  clouds.  With  winged  feet  she 
hastened  down  into  the  woody  plain,  where  the  foliage 
enveloped  her.  Now  she  felt  herself  alone.  She  un- 
consciously grasped  a  slender  birch  tree,  which  shook 
beneath  her  convulsive  grasp,  until  its  leaves  fell  in  a 
shower  around  her.  She  raised  her  hands  to  the  gol- 
den light  of  the  heavens  and  threw  herself  down  on 
the  mossy  ground.  Her  bosom  heaved  and  panted 
violently  and  she  trembled  with  inward  excitement. 
Love  had  descended  from  heaven  upon  the  young* 
woman,  taking  possession  of  her  body  and  soul  with 
its  irresistible  power. 

Thus  she  lay  a  long  time.  Butterflies  played  about 
her  hair.  A  little  lizard  crept  over  her  hand.  The 
white  tips  of  the  wild  flowers  and  the  branches  of  the 
hazel  bent  over  her,  as  if  these  little  children  of  nature 
wished  to  veil  the  deep  emotions  of  the  sister  who  had 
come  to  them  in  the  happiest  moment  of  her  life. 

At  last  she  rose  upon  her  knees,  clasped  her  hands 
together,  and  thanked  and  prayed  to  God  for  him. 

She  became  more  collected  and  went  into  the  open 
valley,  no  longer  the  quiet  girl  she  was  formerly.  Her 
own  life  and  what  surrounded  her  shone  in  new  colors, 
and  she  viewed  the  world  with  new  feelings.  She 
understood  the  language  of  the  pair  of  swallows  that 


ILSE.  175 

circled  round  her,  and  with  twittering  tones  passed  by 
her  swift  as  arrows.  It  was  the  rapturous  joy  of  life 
which  impelled  the  little  bodies  so  swiftly  through  the 
air,  and  the  birds  greeted  her  with  a  sisterly  song  of 
jubilee.  She  answered  the  greeting  of  the  laborers 
who  were  going  home  from  the  fields,  and  she  looked 
at  one  of  the  women  who  had  been  binding  the  sheaves, 
and  knew  exactly  what  was  the  state  of  her  feelings. 
This  woman  also  had,  as  a  maiden,  loved  a  strange 
lad ;  it  had  been  a  long  and  unhappy  attachment, 
attended  by  much  sorrow  ;  but  now  she  was  comforted 
going  with  him  to  her  home,  and  when  she  spoke  to 
her  mistress  she  looked  proudly  on  her  companion, 
and  Use  felt  how  happy  was  the  poor  weary  woman. 
When  Use  entered  the  farm-yard,  and  heard  the  voices 
of  the  maids  who  had  waited  for  her  in  vain,  and  the 
impatient  lowing  of  the  cattle,  which  sounded  like  a 
reproach  on  the  loitering  mistress,  she  shook  her  head 
gently,  as  if  the  admonition  was  no  longer  for  her,  but 
for  another. 

When  she  again  passed  from  the  farm  buildings 
into  the  golden  evening  light,  with  fleet  steps  and 
elevated  head,  she  perceived  with  astonishment  her 
father  standing  by  his  horse  ready  to  mount,  and  with 
him,  in  quiet  conversation,  the  Doctor,  and  he  whom 
at  this  moment  she  felt  a  difficulty  in  encountering. 
She  approached  hesitatingly. 

"Where  have  you  been  lingering,  Use  ?  "  cried  the 
Proprietor.  "  I  must  be  off,"  and  looking  at  the  agi- 
tated countenance  of  his  daughter,  he  added  :  "  It  is 
nothing  of  importance.  A  letter  from  the  invalid  for- 
ester calls  me  to  his  house.  One  of  the  Court  people 
has  arrived,  and  I  can  guess  what  is  wanted  of  me. 
I  hope  to  be  back  at  night." 


176  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

He  nodded  to  the  Doctor.  "We  shall  see  each 
other  again  before  your  departure." 

So  saying,  he  trotted  away,  and  Use  was  thankful 
in  her  heart  for  the  incident  which  made  it  easier  for 
her  to  speak  with  composure  to  the  friends.  She 
walked  with  them  on  the  road  along  which  her  father 
had  ridden,  and  endeavored  to  conceal  her  disquiet  by 
talking  on  indifferent  subjects.  She  spoke  of  the  hunt- 
ing castle  in  the  wood,  and  of  the  solitude  in  which 
the  gray-headed  forester  dwelt  among  the  beech-trees 
of  the  forest.  But  the  conversation  did  not  flow;  each 
of  those  noble  hearts  was  powerfully  touched.  The 
Professor  and  Use  avoided  looking  at  each  other,  and 
the  friend  could  not  succeed,  by  jocose  talk,  in  draw- 
ing the  lovers  down  to  the  small  things  of  life. 

Use  suddenly  pointed  with  her  hand  to  a  narrow 
pass  on  one  side,  from  which  many  dark  heads  were 
emerging. 

"Look!  There  are  the  Indians  of  Mrs.  Roll- 
maus." 

A  crowd  of  wild  figures  came  on  with  quick  step, 
one  behind  the  other.  In  front  a  powerful  man  in  a  brown 
smock-frock  and  shabby  hat,  with  a  stout  stick  in  his 
hand  ;  behind  him  some  young  men,  then  women  with 
little  children  on  their  backs ;  all  around  and  about 
the  troop  ran  half-naked  boys  and  girls.  Most  of  the 
strangers  were  bare-headed,  and  without  shoes.  Their 
long  black  hair  hung  about  their  brown  faces,  and 
their  wild  eyes,  even  from  afar,  shone  covetously  on 
the  walking  party. 

"  When  the  autumn  comes,  these  people  some- 
times wander  through  our  country.  They  are  jugglers, 
going  to  the  fair.  But  for  some  years  they  have  not 
ventured  into  the  neighborhood  of  our  estate." 


ILSE.  177 

The  troop  approached;  there  was  a  wild  rush 
out  of  the  gang,  and  in  a  moment  the  friends  were  sur- 
rounded by  ten  or  twelve  dusky  figures,  who  pressed 
on  them  with  passionate  gestures,  loud  cries,  and  out- 
stretched hands — men,  women,  and  children,  in  tumult- 
uous confusion.  The  friends  looked  with  astonish- 
ment on  their  piercing  eyes  and  veheme:  t  movements, 
and  on  the  children,  who  stamped  with  their  feet,  and 
clawed  the  strangers  with  their  hands  like  madmen. 

"Back,  you  wild  creatures,"  cried  Use,  pushing 
herself  through  the  throng,  and  placing  herself  before 
the  friends.  "  Back  with  you.  Who  is  the  chief  of 
this  band  ?  "  she  repeated  with  anger,  raising  her  arm 
commandingly. 

The  noise  was  silenced  and  a  brown  gypsy  woman, 
not  smaller  than  Use,  with  shining  hair  arranged  in 
braids  and  a  colored  handkerchief  about  her  head, 
came  out  from  the  band,  and  stretched  her  hands  to- 
ward Use. 

"  My  children  beg,"  she  said  ;  "  they  hunger  and 
thirst." 

It  was  a  large  face  with  sharp  features,  in  which 
traces  of  former  beauty  were  visible.  With  head  bent 
forward,  she  stood  before  the  young  lady,  and  her 
sparkling  eyes  passed  peeringly  from  one  countenance 
to  the  other. 

"  We  have  money  only  for  the  men  who  work  for 
us,"  answered  Use,  coldly.  "For  strangers  who  are 
thirsty,  there  is  our  spring  ;  and  to  those  who  are 
hungry  we  give  bread.  You  will  get  nothing  more  at 
our  house." 

Again  dozens  of  arms  were  raised  and  again  the 
wild  crowd  pressed  nearer.  The  gypsy  woman  drove 
them  back  by  a  call  in  a  foreign  tongue. 


178  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

"We  wish  to  work,  Mademoiselle,"  she  said,  in 
fluent  German,  with  a  foreign  accent;  "the  men 
mend  old  utensils,  and  we  drive  away  rats  and  mice 
from  the  walls ;  and  if  you  have  a  sick  horse,  we  will 
cure  it  speedily." 

Use  shook  her  head  negatively.  "  We  do  not  need 
your  help  ;  where  is  your  pass  ?  " 

"We  have  none,"  said  the  woman;  "we  came 
from  foreign  parts,"  and  she  pointed  to  where  the  sun 
rises. 

"And  where  will  you  rest  to-night  ?  "  asked  Use. 

"We  do  not  know  ;  the  sun  is  going  down  and  my 
people  are  weary  and  barefooted,"  replied  the  gypsy 
woman. 

"You  must  not  rest  near  the  farm  nor  near  the 
village  houses.  The  bread  you  will  receive  at  the  gate 
of  the  farm-yard  ;  you  may  send  some  one  there  to 
fetch  it.  If  you  light  a  fire  in  any  of  our  fields,  take 
care  not  to  go  too  near  the  sheaves  ;  we  shall  look 
after  you.  Let  none  of  you  stroll  about  the  estate 
or  into  the  village  to  tell  fortunes  to  people,  for  we  do 
not  permit  it." 

"We  do  not  tell  fortunes,"  answered  the  woman, 
touching  a  small  black  cross  which  she  wore  around 
her  neck.  "None  here  below  know  the  future,  nor 
do  we." 

Use  bent  her  head  reverently. 

"Well  said,"  said  she.  "According  to  the  mean- 
ing which  seems  conveyed  in  your  words,  you  do  not 
remind  me  in  vain  of  the  communion  which  exists  be- 
tween us.  Come  to  the  gate  yourself,  mother,  and 
await  me  there ;  if  you  need  anything  for  your  little 
ones,  I  will  endeavor  to  help  you." 

"  We  have  a  sick  child,  my  pretty  young  lady, 


ILSE.  179 

and  the  boys  are  in  want  of  clothes,"  begged  the  gypsy 
woman.  "I  will  come,  and  my  people  shall  do  as  you 
wish." 

She  gave  a  sign,  and  the  wild  troop  tramped  obe- 
diently along  the  side-road  that  led  to  the  village. 
The  friends  looked  with  curiosity  after  the  band. 

"That  such  a  scene  should  be  possible  in  this 
country  I  could  never  have  believed,"  cried  the 
Doctor. 

"  They  were  formerly  quite  a  nuisance  to  us,"  re- 
plied Use,  with  indifference;  they  are  seldom  about, now. 
My  father  keeps  strict  order,  and  that  they  know  right 
well.  But  we  must  go  back  to  the  farm-yard,  for  there 
can  be  no  harm  in  caution  with  this  thievish  race." 

They  hastened  back  to  the  farm-yard.  The  Doctor 
lamented  heartily  that  his  intended  journey  prevented 
him  from  obtaining  information  from  the  strangers 
respecting  the  secrets  of  their  language. 

Use  called  the  Inspector,  and  the  intelligence  that 
there  were  gypsies  in  the  neighborhood  flew  like  wild- 
fire over  the  farm.  The  stables  were  guarded,  the 
poultry  and  families  of  fatted  pigs  were  put  in  the 
charge  of  stout  maids,  and  the  shepherds  and  plough- 
men received  orders  to  keep  watch  at  night.  Use 
called  the  children  and  gave  them  their  supper,  but 
found  it  difficult  to  control  their  excitement.  The 
youngest  were  given  over  to  Mademoiselle,  and  under 
strong  protest  and  many  tears  were  consigned  to  the 
secure  protection  of  their  beds.  Then  Use  collected 
old  gowns  and  linen,  gave  a  maid  two  huge  loaves, 
and  prepared  to  go  to  the  gate  of  the  farm-yard,  where 
the  gypsy  woman  was  to  await  her.  The  Doctor,  in 
his  joy  about  the  strangers,  had  cast  off  all  anxiety 
concerning  his  friend. 


l8o  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

"Allow  us  to  witness  the  interview  with  the  sibyl," 
he  begged. 

They  found  the  gypsy  woman  sitting  in  the  dusk 
before  the  gate.  Near  her  was  a  half -grown  maiden, 
with  brilliant  eyes  and  long  tresses,  but  scanty  dress. 
The  woman  rose  and  received  with  a  distinguished  air 
the  bounty  which  Use  handed  to  her. 

"Blessings  on  you,  young  lady,"  she  exclaimed, 
"and  may  all  the  happiness  that  you  now  wish  be 
your  portion.  You  have  a  face  that  promises  good 
fortune.  Blessings  on  your  golden  hair  and  your  blue 
eyes.  I  thank  you,"  she  concluded,  bending  her  head. 
"Will  not  the  gentlemen  also  give  my  little  girl  a 
keepsake  ?  "  The  wild  beauty  held  out  her  hand. 
"  Her  face  is  burnt  by  the  sun  ;  be  kind  to  the  poor 
dark  girl,"  begged  the  old  one,  looking  furtively  round. 

The  Professor  shook  his  head.  The  Doctor  got 
out  his  purse  and  placed  a  piece  of  gold  in  the  hand 
of  the  woman. 

"  Have  you  given  up  fortune-telling  ?  "  he  asked 
laughingly. 

"  Misfortune  visits  those  who  prophesy  and  those 
who  ask,"  replied  the  gypsy  woman.  "  Let  the  gentle- 
man be  on  his  guard  against  all  that  barks  and 
scratches,  for  there  is  mischief  in  store  for  him  from 
dogs  and  cats. " 

Use  and  the  Professor  laughed.  Meanwhile  the 
eyes  of  the  gypsy  woman  peered  restlessly  into  the 
bushes. 

"We  cannot  tell  fortunes,"  she  continued.  "We 
have  no  power  over  the  future.  And  we  make  mis- 
takes, like  others.  But  we  see  much,  my  beautiful 
lady.  And  though  you  do  not  desire  it,  yet  will  I  tell 
it  you.  The  gentleman  near  you  seeks  a  treasure,  and 


ILSE. 


he  will  find  it.  But  he  must  take  care  lest  he  lose  it. 
And  you,  proud  lady,  will  be  dear  to  a  man  that  wears 
a  crown,  and  you  shall  have  the  choice  to  become  a 
queen.  The  choice  and  the  torment,"  she  added 
in  a  lower  tone,  and  her  eyes  again  wandered  un- 
quietly  about. 

"Away  with  you,"  cried  Use,  indignantly;  "  such 
gossip  does  not  agree  with  your  professions." 

"We  know  nothing,"  murmured  the  gypsy  woman 
humbly,  grasping  the  talisman  at  her  neck.  "We 
have  only  our  thoughts,  and  our  thoughts  are  idle  or 
true,  according  to  a  more  powerful  will.  Farewell, 
my  pretty  lady,"  she  cried  out  impressively,  and  strode 
with  her  companion  into  the  darkness. 

"How  proudly  she  walks  away,"  exclaimed  the 
Doctor.  "I  have  much  respect  for  the  clever  woman. 
She  would  not  tell  fortunes,  but  she  could  not  help 
recommending  herself  by  a  bit  of  secret  knowledge." 

"  She  has  long  ago  learnt  all  about  us  from  the  la- 
borers," replied  Use,  laughing. 

"Where  have  they  pitched  their  camp  ?"  asked  the 
Doctor,  with  curiosity. 

"Probably  beyond  the  village,"  answered  Use. 
"You  may  see  their  fires  in  the  valley.  These  strangers 
do  not  like  people  to  come  near  their  camp  and  see 
what  they  have  for  supper." 

They  descended  slowly  into  the  valley  and  re- 
mained standing  on  the  border  of  the  brook,  not  far 
from  the  garden.  All  around  them  the  darkness  of 
the  evening  lay  on  bush  and  meadow.  The  old  house 
stood  out  on  the  rock,  gloomy  under  the  twilight  gray 
of  the  heavens.  At  their  feet  the  water  murmured 
and  the  leaves  of  the  trees  were  agitated  by  the  night 
wind.  Silently  did  the  three  look  upon  the  vanishing 


l82  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

shadows  of  the  landscape.  The  valley  alongside  the 
village  lay  invisible  in  the  deep  gloom  of  the  night. 
Not  one  lighted  window  was  to  be  seen. 

"They  have  disappeared  silently  like  the  bats, 
which  are  even  now  flying  through  the  air,"  said  the 
Doctor. 

But  the  others  did  not  answer.  They  were  no 
longer  thinking  of  the  gypsies. 

Then  through  the  still  evening  a  low  moan  was 
heard.  Use  started  and  listened.  Again  the  same 
weak  tone. 

"The  children  !  "  cried  Use,  in  dismay,  and  rushed 
toward  the  hedge  which  divided  the  meadow  from  the 
orchard.  Much  alarmed  she  shook  the  closed  gate,, 
then  broke  through  the  hedge,  and  sprang  like  a 
lioness  past  the  espaliers.  The  friends  hastened  after 
her,  but  could  not  overtake  her.  A  bright  light  shone 
among  the  trees  before  her  and  something  moved  as 
she  flew  on.  Two  men  rose  from  the  ground  ;  one 
encountered  her,  but  Use  threw  back  the  arm  which 
was  raised  to  strike  her,  so  that  the  man  reeled  and 
fell  back  over  the  weeping  children  who  lay  on  the 
grass.  Felix,  who  was  behind  Use,  sprang  forward 
and  seized  the  man,  while  the  Doctor  the  next  mo- 
ment struggled  with  another,  who  glided  like  an  eel 
from  under  his  hands  and  disappeared  in  the  dark- 
ness. Meanwhile  the  first  robber  struck  at  the  arm  of 
the  Professor  with  his  knife,  wrenched  himself  away 
from  the  hand  which  held  him,  and  in  the  next  mo- 
ment broke  through  the  hedge.  One  heard  the  crack- 
ling of  the  branches,  and  then  all  was  quiet  again. 

"They  live  !  "  cried  Use,  kneeling  on  the  ground, 
with  panting  breath,  and  embracing  the  little  ones, 
who  now  uttered  piteous  cries.  It  was  Riekchen,  in 


ILSE.  183 

her  night-dress,  and  Franz,  also  nearly  stripped.  The 
children  had  escaped  from  the  eyes  of  Mademoiselle 
and  the  protection  of  the  bedroom,  and  slipped  into 
the  garden,  to  see  the  fire  of  the  gypsies,  of  which  they 
had  heard  their  sister  speak.  They  had  fallen  into  the 
hands  of  some  of  the  fellows  belonging  to  the  band,  who 
were  looking  out  for  something  to  steal,  and  had  been 
robbed  of  their  clothes. 

Use  took  the  screaming  children  in  her  arms,  and 
in  vain  did  the  friends  try  to  relieve  her  of  the  burden. 
Silently  she  hastened  with  them  into  the  house,  rushed 
into  the  room,  and,  still  holding  them  fast,  knelt  down 
by  them  before  the  sofa,  and  the  friends  heard  her 
suppressed  sobs.  But  it  was  only  for  a  few  moments 
that  she  lost  her  self-control.  She  rose,  and  looked 
at  the  servants,  who  thronged  terrified  into  the  room. 

"  No  harm  has  happened  to  the  children,"  she  ex- 
claimed. "Go  where  you  have  to  keep  watch  and 
send  one  of  the  overseers  to  me." 

The  Inspector  immediately  came. 

"A  robbery  has  been  committed  on  our  estate," 
said  Use,  "and  those  who  perpetrated  it  should  be 
handed  over  to  the  law.  I  request  you  to  seize  their 
camp." 

"Their  fire  is  in  the  ravine  behind  the  village," 
replied  the  Inspector;  "one  may  see  the  flame  and 
smoke  from  the  upper  story.  But,  Miss  Use — I  say 
it  unwillingly — would  it  not  be  more  prudent  to  let  the 
rogues  escape  ?  A  large  portion  of  the  harvest  still 
lies  in  sheaves ;  they  may  set  it  on  fire  in  the  night, 
out  of  revenge,  or  perhaps  venture  something  still 
worse,  in  order  to  free  their  people." 

"No,"  exclaimed  Use;  "do  not  hesitate — do  not 
delay.  Whether  the  vagabonds  injure  us  or  not  will 


184  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

be  decided  by  a  higher  will.  We  must  do  our  duty. 
The  crime  demands  punishment,  and  the  master  of 
this  estate  is  in  the  position  of  guardian  of  the  law." 

"Let  us  be  quick,"  said  the  Professor  ;  "we  will 
accompany  you." 

"Well,  so  be  it,"  replied  the  Inspector,  after  con- 
sideration ;  "  the  farm  bailiff  shall  remain  here  and  we 
others  will  seek  the  band  at  the  fire." 

He  hastened  out.  The  Doctor  seized  a  knobbed 
stick  that  was  in  the  corner  of  the  room.  "That  will 
suffice  for  me,"  .he  said,  laughing,  to  his  friend.  "  I 
consider  myself  bound  to  show  some  forbearance  to- 
ward these  thievish  associates  of  my  studies,  who  have 
not  quite  forgotten  their  old  tongue."  As  he  was  on 
the  point  of  leaving  the  room  he  stopped  :  "  But  you 
must  remain  behind,  for  you  are  bleeding." 

Some  drops  of  blood  fell  from  the  sleeve  of  the 
Professor. 

The  countenance  of  the  maiden  became  white  as 
the  door  against  which  she  leant.  "For  our  sake," 
she  murmured  faintly.  Suddenly  she  hastened  up  to 
the  Professor  and  bent  down  to  kiss  his  hand.  Felix 
restrained  her. 

"It  is  not  worth  speaking  of,  Miss  Use,"  he  ex- 
claimed. "  I  can  move  my  arm." 

The  Doctor  compelled  him  to  take  off  his  coat  and 
Use  flew  for  a  bandage. 

Fritz  examined  the  wound  with  the  composure  of 
an  old  duellist.  "It  is  a  slight  prick  in  the  muscles 
of  the  under  part  of  the  arm,"  he  said,  comforting 
Use;  "a  little  sticking-plaster  will  be  sufficient." 

The  Professor  put  on  his  coat  again  and  seized  his 
hat.  "Let  us  start,"  he  said.  * 


ILSE.  185 

"Oh,  no;  remain  with  us,"  begged  Use  hastening 
after  him. 

The  Professor  looked  at  her  anxious  countenance, 
shook  her  heartily  by  the  hand  and  left  the  room  with 
his  friend. 

The  hasty  tread  of  the  men  had  died  away.  Use 
went  alone  through  all  the  rooms  in  the  house.  Doors 
and  windows  were  closed.  Hans  watched  at  the  door 
opening  into  the  court-yard,  his  father's  sword  in  his 
hand.  And  the  housemaids  overlooked  the  court-yard 
and  garden  from  the  upper  floor.  Use  entered  the 
nursery,  where  the  two  little  ones,  surrounded  by 
Mademoiselle  and  their  brothers  and  sisters,  were 
sitting  in  their  beds  and  struggling  between  their  last 
tears  and  their  sleep.  Use  kissed  the  tired  little  ones, 
laid  them  down  on  their  pillows,  then  she  hastened 
out  into  the  yard  and  listened,  now  in  the  direction  in 
which  the  band  lay,  now  on  the  other  side,  where  the 
clatter  of  horses'  hoofs  might  announce  the  arrival  of 
her  father.  All  was  quiet.  The  maids  from  above 
called  to  her  that  the  fire  of  the  gypsies  was  extin- 
guished, and  she  again  hastened  up  and  down,  listen- 
ing anxiously  and  looking  up  to  the  starry  heaven. 

What  a  day  !  A  few  hours  before  raised  above  the 
cares  of  earth,  and  now  by  a  hostile  hand  dragged 
back  into  terror  and  anxiety  !  Was  this  to  be  a  fore- 
boding of  her  future  life  ?  Were  the  golden  doors  only 
opened  to  be  closed  again  discordantly  and  a  poor  soul 
to  be  thrown  back  upon  hopeless  aspirations  ?  The 
deceiver  had  prophesied  of  one  who  might  wear  a 
crown.  Yes,  in  the  realm  in  which  he  ruled  as  king 
there  was  a  blessed  serenity  and  happy  peace.  Ah, 
if  it  might  be  permitted  to  compare  the  joys  of  earth 
with  those  of  heaven,  such  learning  and  power  of 


1 86  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

thought  gave  a  foretaste  of  eternal  glory.  For  thus 
did  the  spirits  of  those  who  had  here  been  good  and  wise 
soar,  surrounded  by  light,  in  pure  clearness  of  vision, 
and  speak  smilingly  and  happily  to  one  another  of 
all  that  had  been  upon  earth ;  the  most  secret  things 
would  be  revealed  to  them,  and  all  that  was  most 
deeply  veiled  become  apparent,  and  they  would  know 
that  all  the  pains  and  sorrows  of  earth  proceeded  from 
eternal  goodness  and  wisdom.  And  he  who  here  trod 
this  earth,  a  serene  heaven  in  his  heart,  he  had  been 
wounded  in  the  arm  by  a  wandering  vagabond  for  her 
sake ;  and  from  love  for  her  he  had  again  gone  out 
into  the  fearful  night,  and  she  was  troubled  with  end- 
less anguish  on  his  account.  "  Protect  him,  all-merci- 
ful God,"  she  prayed,  "and  help  me  out  of  this  dark- 
ness ;  give  me  strength,  and  enlighten  my  mind  that 
I  may  become  worthy  of  the  man  who  beholds  Thy 
countenance  in  past  times,  and  among  people  that 
have  passed  away." 

At  last  she  heard  the  quick  trot,  and  then  the  snort- 
ing of  an  impatient  horse  at  the  closed  door.  "Father !  " 
she  cried  out,  hastily  drawing  back  the  bolt,  and  fly- 
ing into  his  arms,  as  he  dismounted.  The  Proprietor 
was  much  perplexed  as  he  listened  to  her  rapid  report. 
He  threw  his  horse's  bridle  to  his  son,  and  hastened 
to  the  nursery  to  embrace  his  little  ones,  who  at  the 
sight  of  their  father  remembered  their  misfortunes, 
and  began  to  weep  and  lament. 

When  the  Proprietor  entered  the  farmyard,  the 
farming  people  were  drawn  near  the  house,  and  the 
Inspector  stated  "  that  no  one  was  to  be  seen  near  the 
fire  or  in  the  neighborhood.  There  was  not  a  trace 
near  the  fire  of  their  having  encamped  there.  It  had 
been  lighted  to  mislead.  Theft  had  been  their  only 


ILSE.  187 

object  here.  The  greater  part  of  the  band  had  left 
early  in  the  evening.  They  are  lying  concealed  some- 
where in  the  woods,  and  when  the  sun  rises  they  will 
be  far  beyond  the  frontier.  I  know  the  rascals  of  old." 

"  He  is  right,"  said  the  Proprietor  to  the  friends, 
"and  I  think  we  have  nothing  more  to  fear.  Yet  we 
must  be  very  watchful  to-night.  A  poor  father  thanks 
you,"  he  continued,  with  emotion.  "The  last  day 
you  have  passed  with  us,  Doctor,  has  been  unpleas- 
antly eventful,  which  is  not  usual  with  us." 

"I  must  say  I  depart  in  anxiety  about  what  I  leave 
behind  me,"  replied  the  Doctor,  half  jesting,  half  se- 
rious. "Just  fancy  that  now  the  lost  children  of  Asia 
are  sneaking  about  these  walls  !  " 

"  I  hope  we  are  rid  of  the  rascals,"  continued  the 
Proprietor,  turning  to  his  daughter  ;  but  you  may  count 
upon  a  different  visit  soon  ;  our  sovereign  will  be  here  a 
few  weeks  hence.  I  have  been  called  away  only  to 
hear  gossip  about  his  visit,  and  to  learn  that  it  is  not 
yet  decided  where  his  Serene  Highness  will  breakfast 
before  the  hunt.  I  know  what  that  means.  The  same 
thing  happened  fifteen  years  ago.  There  is  no  help 
for  it ;  he  cannot  remain  at  the  Dragon  at  Rossau. 
But  this  visit  will  not  cause  us  any  very  serious  incon- 
venience. Let  us  now  wish  each  other  goodnight  and 
sleep  in  peace." 

Both  friends  entered  their  bedroom  thoughtfully. 
The  Professor  stood  at  the  window,  and  listened  to  the 
tread  of  the  watchmen,  who  paced  around  the  yard 
within  and  without,  to  the  chirruping  of  the  crickets, 
and  to  the  broken  sounds  which  reached  the  ear  from 
the  slumbering  fields.  He  heard  a  noise  near  him, 
and  looked  into  the  countenance  of  his  faithful  friend, 
who  in  his  excitement  had  clasped  his  hands 


1 88  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

"  She  is  religious,"  began  Fritz,  doubtfully. 

"Are  we  not  so  also ?"  answered  the  Professor, 
drawing  himself  up  to  his  full  height. 

"  She  is  as  far  removed  from  the  tenor  of  your  mind 
as  the  holy  Saint  Eli?  ibeth." 

"  She  has  sense,"  replied  the  Professor. 

"She  is  firm  and  self-confident  in  her  own  circle, 
but  she  will  never  be  at  ease  in  your  world." 

"She  has  aptness  here — she  will  have  it  every- 
where." 

"You  blind  yourself,"  cried  Fritz,  in  despair  ;  "  will 
you  disturb  the  peace  of  your  life  by  a  discord,  the 
issue  of  which  you  cannot  foresee  ?  Will  you  demand 
of  her  the  great  change  which  she  must  undergo  from 
being  a  thorough  housekeeper  to  becoming  the  confi- 
dant of  your  profound  investigations  ?  Will  you  de- 
prive her  of  the  secure  self-dependence  of  an  active 
life  and  bring  into  her  future,  struggle,  uncertainty, 
and  doubt  ?  If  you  will  not  think  of  your  own  peace, 
it  is  your  duty  to  show  consideration  for  her  life." 

The  Professor  leaned  his  hot  head  against -the  win- 
dow. At  last  he  began  : 

"  But  we  are  the  servants  and  proclaimers  of  truth  ; 
and  while  we  practice  this  duty  towards  every  one  who 
will  hear  us,  is  it  not  right  and  a  duty  to  do  it  where 
we  love  ?  " 

"  Do  not  deceive  yourself,"  answered  Fritz.  "  You, 
the  man  of  refined  feeling,  who  so  willingly  recognize 
in  every  life  the  right  to  what  befits  it — you  would  be 
the  last  to  disturb  the  harmony  of  her  being,  if  you 
did  not  desire  to  possess  her.  What  impels  you  is 
not  a  feeling  of  duty,  but  passion." 

"  What  I  do  not  demand  of  a  stranger,  it  behooves 


ILSE.  189 

me  to  fulfil  in  the  woman  with  whom  I  unite  myself 
for  life.  And  must  not  every  woman  that  comes,  to 
share  our  life  experience  a  similar  change  ?  How  high 
do  you  place  the  knowledge  of  the  women  in  the  city 
who  come  into  our  circle  ?  " 

"  What  they  know  is,  as  a  rule,  more  unreliable 
than  is  good  for  them  or  for  us,"  replied  Fritz  ;  "but 
from  their  youth  they  are  accustomed  to  view  the 
learning  that  interests  men,  with  sympathy.  The  best 
results  of  intellectual  work  are  so  easily  accessible  to 
them  that  everywhere  they  find  common  ground  on 
which  they  can  meet.  But  here,  however  charming 
and  admirable  this  life  may  appear  to  our  eyes,  it  is 
attractive  just  because  it  is  so  strange  and  different 
from  ours." 

"You  exaggerate,  you  distort,"  cried  the  Profes- 
sor. "I  have  felt  deeply  in  the  time  that  we  have 
passed  here  how  great  are  the  rights  that  a  noble  pas- 
sion has  over  one's  life.  This  we  have  forgotten  over 
our  books.  Who  can  tell  what  it  is  that  makes  two 
human  beings  so  love  one  another,  that  they  cannot 
part?  It  is  not  only  pleasure  in  the  existence  of  the 
other,  nor  the  necessity  of  making  one's  own  being 
complete,  nor  feeling  and  fancy  alone,  which  joins 
the  object  of  our  love — although  heretofore  a  stranger 
— so  intimately  to  us.  Is  it  necessary  that  the  wife 
should  only  be  the  finer  reed,  which  always  sounds 
the  same  notes  that  the  husband  plays — only  an 
octave  higher?  Speech  is  incapable  of  expressing 
the  joy  and  exultation  that  I  feel  when  near  her  ;  and 
I  can  only  tell  you,  my  friend,  that  it  is  something 
good  and  great,  and  it  demands  its  place  in  my  life. 
What  you  now  express  are  only  the  doubts  of  cold 
reason,  which  is  an  enemy  to  all  that  is  in  process  of 


IQO  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

becoming,  and  continues  to  raise  its  pretensions  until 
it  is  subdued  by  accomplished  realities." 

"It  is  not  alone  reason,"  replied  Fritz,  offended. 
"I  did  not  deserve  that  you  should  so  misconstrue 
what  I  have  said.  If  it  was  presumptuous  in  me  to 
speak  to  you  concerning  feelings  which  you  now  con- 
sider sacred,  I  must  say  in  excuse,  that  I  only  assume 
the  right  which  your  friendship  has  hitherto  granted 
me.  I  must  do  my  duty  to  you  before  I  leave  you 
here.  If  I  cannot  convince  you,  try  to  forget  this 
conversation.  I  shall  never  touch  upon  this  theme 
again." 

He  left  the  Professor  standing  at  the  window,  and 
went  to  his  bed.  He  softly  took  off  his  boots,  threw 
himself  upon  the  bed,  and  turned  his  face  to  the  wall. 
After  a  short  time  he  felt  his  hand  seized,  the  Pro- 
fessor was  sitting  by  his  bed  clasping  his  friend's  hand 
without  saying  a  word.  At  last  Fritz  withdrew  his 
hand  with  a  hearty  pressure  and  again  turned  to  the 
wall. 

He  rose  in  the  early  dawn,  gently  approached  the 
slumbering  Professor,  and  then  quietly  left  the  room. 
The  Proprietor  awaited  him  in  the  sitting-room  ;  the 
carriage  came  ;  there  was  a  short  friendly  parting,  and 
Fritz  drove  away,  leaving  his  friend  alone  among  the 
crickets  of  the  field  and  the  ears  of  corn,  whose  heavy 
heads  rose  and  fell  like  the  waves  of  the  sea  under  the 
morning  breeze,  the  same  this  year  as  they  had  done 
thousands  and  thousands  of  years  before. 

The  Doctor  looked  back  at  the  rock  on  which  the 
old  house  stood,  on  the  terraces  beneath,  with  the 
churchyard  and  wooden  church,  and  on  the  forest 
which  surrounded  the  foot  of  the  hill ;  and  all  the  past 
and  the  present  of  this  dangerous  place  rose  distinctly 


ILSE.  igr 

before  him.  Its  ancient  character  of  Saxon  times  had 
altered  little ;  and  he  looked  on  the  rock  and  the 
beautiful  Use  of  Bielstein,  as  they  would  have  been  in 
the  days  of  yore.  Then  the  rock  would  have  been  con- 
secrated to  a  heathen  god.  At  that  time  there  would 
have  been  a  tower  standing  on  it.  And  Use  would 
have  dwelt  there,  with  her  golden  hair,  in  a  white  linen 
dress  with  a  garment  of  otter  skin  over  it.  She  would 
have  been  priestess  and  prophetess  of  a  wild  Saxon 
race.  Where  the  church  stood  would  have  been  the 
sacrificial  altar,  from  which  the  blood  of  prisoners  of 
war  would  have  trickled  down  into  the  valley. 

Again,  later,  a  Christian  Saxon  chief  would  have 
built  his  log-house  there,  and  again  the  same  Use 
would  have  sat  between  the  wooden  posts  in  the  raised 
apartment  of  the  women,  using  her  spindle,  or  pouring 
black  mead  into  the  goblets  of  the  men. 

Again,  centuries  later  it  would  have  been  a  walled 
castle,  with  stone  mullions  to  the  windows,  and  a 
watch-turret  erected  on  the  rock ;  it  had  become  a 
nest  for  predatory  barons,  and  Use  of  Bielstein  again 
dwelt  there,  in  a  velvet  hood  which  her  father  had 
robbed  from  a  merchant  on  the  king's  highway.  And 
when  the  house  was  assaulted  by  enemies,  Use  stood 
among  the  men  on  the  wall  and  drew  the  great  cross- 
bow, like  a  knight's  squire. 

Again,  hundreds  of  years  later,  she  sat  in  the 
hunting-lodge  of  a  prince,  with  her  father,  an  old  war- 
rior of  Swedish  times.  Than  she  had  become  pious, 
and,  like  a  city  dame,  she  cooked  jams  and  preserves, 
and  went  down  to  the  pastor  to  the  conventicle.  She 
would  not  have  worn  flowers,  and  sought  to  know  what 
husband  Heaven  destined  for  her  by  putting  her  finger 
at  hazard  on  a  passage  in  the  Bible. 


ig2  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

And  now,  his  friend  had  met  this  same  Saxon  child, 
tall  and  strong  in  body  and  soul,  but  still  a  child 
of  the  middle  ages,  with  a  placid  expression  in  her 
beautiful  countenance  which  only  changed  when  the 
heart  was  excited  by  any  sudden  passion  ;  a  mind  as 
if  half  asleep,  and  of  a  nature  so  child-like  and  pliant 
that  it  was  sometimes  impossible  to  know  whether  she 
was  wise  or  simple.  In  her  character  there  still  re- 
mained something  of  all  those  Uses  of  the  two  thou- 
sand years  that  had  passed  away — a  mixture  of  Sibyl, 
mead-dispenser,  knight's  daughter,  and  pietist.  She 
was  of  the  old  German  type  and  the  old  German 
beauty,  but  that  she  should  suddenly  become  the  wife 
of  a  Professor,  that  appeared  to  the  troubled  Doctor 
too  much  against  all  the  laws  of  quiet  historical  de- 
velopment. 

CHAPTER  X. 
THE    WOOING. 

A  FEW  hours  after  his  friend  had  left  the  estate,  the 
Professor  entered  the  study  of  the  Proprietor,  who 
exclaimed,  looking  up  from  his  work  :  ''The  gypsies 
have  disappeared,  and  with  them  your  friend.  We 
are  all  sorry  that  the  Doctor  could  not  remain  longer." 

"With  you  lies  the  decision  whether  I  too  shall 
be  permitted  to  tarry  longer  here,"  rejoined  the  Pro- 
fessor, with  such  deep  earnestness  that  the  host  arose, 
and  looked  inquiringly  at  his  guest.  "  I  come  to  ask 
of  you  a  great  boon,"  continued  the  Professor,  "and 
I  must  depart  from  here  if  you  refuse  it  me." 

"Speak  out,  Professor,"  replied  he. 

"  It  is  impossible  for  us  to  continue  longer  in  the 


THE    WOOING.  193 

open  relations  of  host  and  guest.     For  I  now  seek  to 
win  the  love  of  your  daughter  Use." 

The  Proprietor  started,  and  the  hand  of  the  strong 
man  grasped  the  table. 

"I  know  what  I  ask  of  you,"  cried  the  Scholar,  in 
an  outburst  of  passion.  "  I  know  that  I  claim  the 
highest  and  dearest  treasure  you  can  give.  I  know 
that  I  shall  make  your  life  thereby  the  poorer.  For  I 
shall  take  from  your  side  what  has  been  your  joy,  sup- 
port, and  pride." 

"And  yet,"  murmured  the  Proprietor  gloomily, 
"you  spare  me  the  trouble  of  saying  that !  " 

"  I  fear  that  at  this  moment  you  look  upon  me  as 
an  intruder  upon  the  peace  of  your  home,"  continued 
the  Professor;  "but  though  it  may  be  difficult  for 
you  to  be  indulgent  towards  me,  you  ought  to  know 
all.  I  first  saw  her  in  the  church,  and  her  religious 
fervor  impressed  me  powerfully.  I  have  lived  in  the 
house  with  her,  and  felt  more  every  hour  how  beauti- 
ful and  lovable  she  is.  The  influence  she  exercises 
over  me  is  irresistible.  The  passion  with  which  she 
has  inspired  me  has  become  so  great,  that  the  thought 
of  being  seperated  from  her  fills  me  with  dismay.  I 
long  to  be  united  to  her  and  to  make  her  my  wife." 

Thus  spoke  the  Scholar,  as  ingenuously  as  a  child. 

"And  to  what  extent  have  you  shown  your  feelings 
to  my  daughter  ?  "  asked  the  father. 

"I  have  twice  in  an  outburst  of  emotion  touched 
her  hand,"  answered  the  Professor. 

"  Have  you  ever  spoken  to  her  of  your  love  ?  " 

"  If  I  had  I  should  not  stand  before  you  now  as  I 
do,"  rejoined  the  Professor.  "  I  am  entirely  unknown 
to  you,  and  was  brought  here  by  peculiar  circum- 
stances ;  and  I  am  not  in  the  happy  position  of  a  wooer 


IQ4  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

who  can  appeal  to  a  long  acquaintance.  You  have 
shown  me  unusual  hospitality,  and  I  am  in  duty  bound 
not  to  abuse  your  confidence.  I  will  not,  unbeknown 
to  you,  endeavor  to  win  a  heart  that  is  so  closely 
bound  up  in  your  life." 

The  father  inclined  his  head  assentingly.  ''And 
have  you  the  assurance  of  winning  her  love  ?  " 

"  I  am  no  child  and  can  see  that  she  is  warmly  at- 
tached to  me.  But  of  the  depth  and  duration  of  the 
feelings  of  a  young  girl  neither  of  us  can  judge.  At 
times  I  have  had  the  happy  conviction  that  she  cher- 
ished a  tender  passion  for  me,  but  it  is  just  the  unem- 
barrassed innocence  of  her  feelings  that  makes  me  un- 
certain ;  and  I  must  confess  to  you  that  I  know  it  is 
possible  for  those  feelings  to  pass  away." 

The  father  looked  at  this  man  who  thus  endeavored 
to  judge  impartially,  but  whose  whole  frame  was  trem- 
bling. "  It  is,  sir,  my  duty  to  yield  to  the  wishes  of 
my  child's  heart,  if  they  are  powerful  enough  to  in- 
duce her  to  leave  her  home  for  that  of  another  man — 
provided  that  I  myself  have  not  the  conviction  that  it 
would  be  detrimental  to  her  happiness.  Your  ac- 
quaintance with  my  daughter  has  been  so  short  that 
I  do  not  feel  myself  in  the  difficult  position  of  having 
to  give  my  consent,  or  to  make  my  daughter  unhappy, 
and  your  confession  makes  it  possible  for  me  to  pre- 
vent what  would,  perhaps,  in  many  respects,  be  un- 
welcome to  me.  Yes,  even  now  you  are  a  stranger  to 
me,  and  when  I  invited  you  to  stay  with  us  I  did  some- 
thing that  may  have  an  unfortunate  sequel  for  me  and 
mine." 

As  the  Proprietor  spoke  thus  in  the  excitement  of 
the  moment,  his  eyes  fell  upon  the  arm  which  had 
bled  yesterday,  and  then  on  the  manly  features  of  the 


THE    WOOING.  195 

pale  countenance  before  him.  He  broke  off  his  speech, 
and  laying  his  hand  on  the  shoulder  of  the  other  ex- 
claimed : — 

"No,  that  is  not  the  sentiment  of  my  heart,  and  I 
ought  not  to  answer  you  thus." 

He  paced  up  and  down  the  room  endeavoring  to 
find  composure. 

"  But  you  must  listen  to  a  word  of  confidence,  and 
regard  what  I  say  as  not  the  promptings  of  importu- 
nacy,"  he  continued,  more  tranquilly.  "I  know  well 
that  I  have  not  brought  up  my  daughter  for  myself, 
and  that  I  must  at  some  time  accustom  myself  to  do 
without  her.  But  our  acquaintance  is  too  short  to 
judge  whether  my  child  would  find  peace  or  happiness 
if  she  were  united  to  you.  When  I  tell  you  that  I 
honor  you  and  take  pleasure  in  your  society,  that  ad- 
mission does  not  affect  the  question  I  have  to  solve. 
If  you  were  a  country  gentleman  like  me,  I  should 
listen  to  your  communications  with  a  lighter  heart,  for 
during  the  time  of  your  stay  here  I  should  have  been 
able  to  form  a  definite  opinion  of  your  qualifications. 
The  difference  of  our  vocations  makes  it  not  only  dif- 
ficult for  me  to  judge  of  you,  but  also  dangerous  for 
the  future  of  my  child.  If  a  father  wishes  his  daughter 
to  marry  a  man  who  pursues  an  occupation  similar  to 
his  own,  he  is  justified  in  so  doing  in  every  sphere  of 
life,  and  more  especially  is  it  so  with  a  country  gentle- 
man of  my  stamp ;  for  the  qualifications  of  our  children 
consist  partly  in  this,  that  they  grow  up  as  the  help- 
meets of  their  parents.  What  Use  has  learnt  in  my  house 
gives  me  the  assurance  that,  as  the  wife  of  a  country 
gentleman,  she  would  fill  her  place  perfectly ;  nay, 
she  might  supply  the  deficiencies  of  her  husband,  and 
that  would  secure  her  a  comfortable  life,  even  though 


196  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

her  husband  did  not  possess  all  that  was  to  be  de- 
sired. As  the  wife  of  a  Professor,  she  will  have  little 
use  for  what  she  knows,  and  she  will  feel  unhappy  at 
not  having  learnt  many  other  things." 

"I  admit  that  she  will  be  deprived  of  much  ;  I 
lay  little  stress  on  what  you  call  her  deficiencies," 
said  the  Professor.  "  I  request  you  to  trust  this  mat- 
ter to  me  and  the  future." 

"Then,  Professor,  I  will  answer  you  as  candidly 
as  you  have  spoken  to  me.  I  must  not  decline  your 
proposal  hastily.  I  will  not  oppose  what  may  perhaps 
be  for  the  happiness  of  my  daughter.  Yet  I  cannot, 
with  the  imperfect  knowledge  which  I  have  of  your 
position,  assent  to  it.  And  I  am  at  this  moment  in 
the  awkward  position  of  not  knowing  how  lean  obtain 
this  knowledge." 

"I  can  well  understand  how  unsatisfactory  to  you 
must  be  any  opinion  concerning  me  which  you  may 
gather  from  strangers.  Yet  you  will  have  to  be  con- 
tent to  do  so,"  continued  the  Professor,  with  dignity. 

The  father  assented  silently. 

"First,  "continued  the  Professor,  "  I  beg  to  inform 
you  concerning  my  pecuniary  circumstances." 

He  mentioned  his  income,  gave  a  faithful  account 
of  the  sources  from  which  he  derived  it,  and  laid  a 
written  statement  on  the  writing-table. 

"  My  legal  adviser,  who  bears  a  high  repute  in  the 
University,  will  give  you  any  confirmation  you  may 
wish  of  these  details.  With  respect  to  my  capacity 
as  teacher  and  my  position  at  the  University,  I  must 
refer  you  to  the  judgment  of  my  colleagues  and  the 
opinion  which  is  held  concerning  it  in  the  city." 

The  Proprietor  looked  at  the  statement. 

"Even  the  significance  of  these  sums  as  regardsyour 


THE    WOOING.  IQ7 

position  is  not  quite  clear  to  me.  Having  no  acquaint- 
ance in  your  town,  I  have  no  facilities  for  obtaining 
further  information  concerning  you.  But,  Professor, 
I  will  without  delay  endeavor  to  obtain  all  the  infor- 
mation I  can.  I  will  start  for  the  city  of  your  resi- 
dence to-morrow." 

"How  I  thank  you!"  exclaimed  the  Professor, 
grasping  his  hand. 

"Not  yet,"  said  the  Proprietor,  withdrawing  it. 

"I  will,  of  course,  if  you  like,  accompany  you," 
continued  the  Professor. 

"I  do  not  wish  that,"  replied  the  Proprietor. 
"You  need  only  write  letters  of  introduction  for  me  to 
your  acquaintances.  For  the  rest  I  must  rely  upon 
my  own  inquiries  and  on  chance.  But,  Professor, 
this  journey  will  only  confirm  your  statements,  of  the 
truth  of  which  I  am  already  convinced.  I  may  obtain 
the  judgment  of  others  concerning  you,  which  will  no 
doubt  accord  with  mine.  But  let  us  suppose  that  the 
information  is  satisfactory  to  me,  what  will  be  the 
consequence?  " 

"  That  you  will  permit  me  to  prolong  my  stay  in 
your  house,"  said  the  Professor  ;  that  you  will  trust- 
ingly permit  me  to  pay  my  addresses  to  your  daughter ; 
and  that  you  will  give  your  consent  to  our  marriage  as 
soon  as  I  am  certain  of  your  daughter's  affection." 

" Such  preliminaries  to  wooing  are  uncommon," 
said  the  father,  with  a  saddened  smile  ;  "  but  they  are 
not  unwelcome  to  a  farmer.  We  are  accustomed  to 
see  fruits  ripen  slowly.  Thus,  Professor,  after  my 
journey  we  shall  all  three  retain  freedom  of  choice  and 
a  final  decision.  This  conversation — shall  it  remain 
a  secret  ?  " 

"I  entreat  you,  yes,"  said  the  Professor. 


198  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

Again  a  slight  smile  flitted  over  the  grave  counte- 
nance of  the  host. 

"In  order  to  make  so  sudden  a  journey  less  sur- 
prising you  had  better  remain  here.  But,  during  my 
absense,  refrain  from  any  increase  of  intimacy  with 
my  daughter.  You  see  what  great  confidence  I  place 
in  you." 

Thus  the  Professor  had  compelled  his  host  to  be- 
come the  confidant  of  his  love.  It  was  a  delightful 
compact  between  passion  and  conscience  that  the 
scholar  had  entered  into,  and  yet  there  was  an  error 
in  this  arrangement.  The  agreement,  which  he  had 
effected  with  eager  spirit  and  beating  heart,  turned 
out  a  little  different  from  the  manner  in  which  he  had 
represented  it  to  himself  and  to  the  father;  for,  between 
the  three  individuals  who  were  now  to  enter  upon  this 
high-minded  method  of  wooing,  all  easy  intercourse 
had  suddenly  vanished.  When  Use,  beaming  with 
happiness,  met  the  gentlemen  on  the  morning  of  the 
eventful  conversation,  she  found  her  heaven  obscured 
and  overshadowed  with  dark  clouds.  The  Professor 
was  uneasy  and  gloomy.  He  worked  almost  the  whole 
day  in  his  room,  and  when  the  little  ones  in  the  even- 
ing begged  him  to  tell  them  some  stories,  he  declined, 
took  hold  of  the  head  of  the  little  sister  with  both 
hands,  kissed  her  forehead  and  laid  his  own  head  upon 
it  as  if  he  wished  the  child  to  support  him.  The  words 
that  he  addressed  to  Use  were  few  and  constrained, 
and  yet  his  eyes  were  fixed  incessantly  upon  her,  but 
inquiringly  and  doubtingly ;  and  Use  was  surprised 
also  at  her  father,  who  appeared  absent-minded  and 
sorrowful.  A  secret  had  arisen  between  her  father 
and  herself  that  deeply  absorbed  him  ;  nay,  even  be- 
tween the  two  men  matters  were  not  as  they  had  been. 


THE    WOOING.  199 

Her  father,  indeed,  spoke  sometimes  in  a  low  voice  to 
the  friend,  but  she  observed  a  constraint  in  both  when 
they  talked  on  indifferent  subjects. 

Then  the  next  morning  there  was  the  secret  journey 
of  the  father,  which  in  few  words  he  described  as  on 
unimportant  business.  Had  everything  changed  about 
her  since  that  eventful  evening?  Her  heart  beat 
anxiously.  A  sense  of  insecurity  came  over  her — the 
fear  of  something  direful  that  was  to  befall  her.  Sor- 
rowfully she  withdrew  to  her  room,  where  she  strug- 
gled with  bitter  thoughts  and  avoided  being  alone  with 
the  man  she  loved. 

Of  course  the  change  became  at  once  perceptible 
to  the  Professor,  and  it  tortured  the  sensitive  man. 
Did  she  wish  to  repel  him  in  order  not  to  abandon  her 
father  ?  Had  that  been  only  pleased  astonishment 
which  he  had  taken  for  affection  of  the  heart  ?  These 
anxieties  made  his  demeanor  constrained  and  un- 
equal, and  the  change  in  his  frame  of  mind  reacted  in 
turn  upon  Use. 

She  had  joyfully  opened  the  flower-bud  of  her  soul 
to  the  rising  light,  but  a  drop  of  morning  dew  had  fal- 
len into  it  and  the  tender  petals  had  closed  again  under 
the  burden. 

Use  had  acted  as  doctress  and  nurse  to  all  who 
were  ill  or  wounded  on  the  estate.  She  had  suc- 
ceeded her  mother  in  this  honorable  office  ;  her  fame 
in  the  district  was  considerable,  and  it  was  not  an  un- 
necessary accomplishment,  for  Rossau  did  not  possess 
even  one  regular  practitioner.  Use  knew  how  to  apply 
her  simple  remedies  admirably  ;  even  her  father  and 
the  Inspectors  submitted  themselves  obediently  to  her 
care.  She  had  become  so  accustomed  to  the  vocation 
of  a  Sister  of  Charity  that  it  did  not  shock  her  maiden- 


2OO  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

ly  feelings  to  sit  by  the  sick-bed  of  a  working  man 
and  she  looked  without  prudery  at  a  wound  which 
had  been  caused  by  the  kick  of  a  horse  or  the  cut 
of  a  scythe.  Now  the  loved  one  was  near  her  with 
his  wound,  not  even  keeping  his  arm  in  a  sling,  and 
she  was  fearful  lest  the  injury  should  become  greater. 
How  glad  she  would  have  been  to  see  the  place  and 
to  have  bandaged  it  herself  ! — and  in  the  morning,  at 
breakfast,  she  entreated  him,  pointing  to  his  arm  : 
"Will  you  not,  for  our  sakes,  do  something  for  it  ?  " 

The  Professor,  embarrassed,  drew  his  arm  back 
and  replied,  "It  is  too  insignificant." 

She  felt  hurt  and  remained  silent ;  but  when  he 
went  to  his  room  her  anxiety  became  overpowering. 
She  sent  the  charwoman,  who  was  her  trusty  assistant 
in  this  art,  with  a  commission  to  him,  and  enjoined 
her  to  enter  with  an  air  of  decision  and,  overcoming 
any  opposition  of  the  gentleman,  to  examine  the  arm 
and  report  to  her.  When  the  honest  woman  said  that 
she  was  sent  by  the  young  lady  and  that  she  must  in- 
sist upon  seeing  the  wound,  the  Professor,  though 
hesitatingly,  consented  to  show  his  arm.  But  when 
the  messenger  conveyed  a  doubtful  report,  and  Use, 
who  had  been  pacing  restlessly  up  and  down  before 
the  door,  again  ordered  cold  poultices  through  her 
deputy,  the  Professor  would  not  apply  them.  He  had 
good  reason  ;  for  however  painfully  he  felt  the  con- 
straint that  was  imposed  upon  him  in  his  intercourse 
with  Use,  yet  he  felt  it  would  be  insupportable  en- 
tirely to  lose  sight  of  her  and  sit  alone  in  his  room 
with  a  basin  of  water.  His  rejection  of  her  good 
counsel,  however,  grieved  Use  still  more  ;  for  she 
feared  the  consequences,  and,  besides,  it  pained  her 
that  he  would  not  accede  to  her  wishes.  When,  after- 


THE    WOOING.  2OI 

wards,  she  learnt  that  he  had  secretly  sent  to  Rossau 
for  a  surgeon,  tears  came  into  her  eyes,  for  she  con- 
sidered it  as  a  slight.  She  knew  the  pernicious  rem- 
edies of  the  drunken  quack  and  she  was  sure,  that 
evil  would  result  from  it.  She  struggled  with  herself 
until  evening  ;  at  last,  anxiety  for  her  beloved  over- 
came all  considerations,  and  when  he  was  sitting  with 
the  children  in  the  arbor,  she,  with  anguish  of  heart 
and  downcast  eyes,  thus  entreated  him  :  "This  stranger 
will  occasion  you  greater  pain.  I  pray  you,  let  me 
see  the  wound." 

The  Professor,  alarmed  at  this  prospect  which 
threatened  to  upset  all  the  self-control  which  he  had 
attained  by  laborious  struggling,  answered,  as  Use 
fancied,  in  a  harsh  tone — but,  in  truth,  he  was  only  a 
little  hoarse  through  inward  emotion — "  I  thank  you, 
but  I  cannot  allow  that." 

Use  then  caught  hold  of  her  brother  and  sister  who 
had  been  in  the  hands  of  the  gypsies,  placed  them  be- 
fore him,  and  exclaimed  eagerly:  "Do  you  beseech 
him,  if  he  will  not  listen  to  me." 

This  little  scene  was  so  moving  to  the  Professor, 
and  Use  looked,  in  her  excitement,  so  irresistibly 
lovely,  that  his  composure  was  overpowered  ;  and  in 
order  to  remain  faithful  to  her  father,  he  rose  and 
went  rapidly  out  of  the  garden. 

Use  pressed  her  hands  convulsively  together  and 
gazed  wildly  before  her.  All  had  been  a  dream  ;  the 
hope  she  had  entertained  in  a  happy  hour  that  he 
loved  her  had  been  a  delusion.  She  had  revealed  her 
heart  to  him,  and  her  warm  feelings  had  appeared  to 
him  as  the  bold  forwardness  of  a  stranger.  She  was 
in  his  eyes  an  awkward  country  girl,  deficient  in  the 
refined  tact  of  the  city,  who  had  got  something  into 


202  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

her  foolish  head  because  he  had  sometimes  spoken  to 
her  "kindly.  She  rushed  into  her  room.  There  she 
sank  down  before  her  couch  and  her  whole  frame 
shook  with  convulsive  sobs. 

She  was  not  visible  for  the  rest  of  the  evening. 
The  following  day  she  met  the  loved  one  proudly  and 
coldly,  said  no  more  than  was  necessary  and  struggled 
secretly  with  tears  and  endless  sorrow. 

All  had  been  arranged  for  a  refined  and  tender 
wooing.  But  when  two  human  beings  love  one  another 
they  ought  to  tell  each  other  so,  frankly  and  simply, 
without  any  previous  arrangement,  and,  indeed — 

without  reserve. 

* 
*  * 

The  father  had  started  on  his  journey.  He  gave 
as  an  excuse  some  business  that  he  meant  to  transact 
on  the  road.  The  day  following  his  massive  form  and 
anxious  countenance  might  be  seen  in  the  streets  of 
the  University  town.  Gabriel  was  much  astonished 
when  the  gigantic  man,  taller  than  his  old  friend  the 
sergeant-major  of  the  cuirassiers,  rang  at  the  door  and 
brought  a  letter  from  his  master,  in  which  Gabriel  was 
instructed  to  place  himself  and  the  lodging  at  the  dis- 
posal of  the  gentleman.  The  stranger  walked  through 
the  rooms,  sat  down  at  the  Professor's  writing-table 
and  began  a  cross-questioning  conversation  with  Ga- 
briel, the  tenor  of  which  the  servant  could  not  under- 
stand. The  stranger  also  greeted  Mr.  Hummel,  then 
went  to  the  University,  stopped  the  students  in  the 
street  and  made  inquiries  of  them  ;  had  a  conference 
with  the  lawyer ;  visited  a  merchant  with  whom  he 
had  had  dealings  in  corn ;  was  conducted  by  Gabriel 
to  the  Professor's  tailor,  there  to  order  a  coat,  and 
Gabriel  had  to  wait  long  at  the  door  before  the  gossip- 


THE    WOOING. 


ing  tailor  would  let  the  stranger  go.  He  also  went  to 
Mr.  Hahn  to  buy  a  straw  hat  ;  and  in  the  evening  the 
tall  figure  might  be  seen  uncomfortably  bent  under 
the  Chinese  temple,  conversing  with  Mr.  Hahn,  over 
a  flask  of  wine.  It  was  a  poor  father  anxiously  seek- 
ing from  indifferent  people  intelligence  which  should 
determine  whether  he  should  give  his  beloved  child 
into  the  arms  of  a  stranger.  What  he  learnt  was  even 
more  favorable  than  he  expected.  He  now  discovered 
what  Mrs.  Rollmaus  had  long  known,  that  he  whom 
he  had  received  into  his  home  was,  according  to  the 
opinion  of  others,  no  common  man. 

When,  on  returning  home,  the  evening  of  the  fol- 
lowing day,  he  reached  the  first  houses  of  Rossau,  he 
saw  a  figure  hastening  towards  him.  It  was  the  Pro- 
fessor, who,  in  impatient  expectation,  had  come  to 
meet  him  and  now  hastened  up  to  the  carriage  with 
disturbed  countenance.  The  Proprietor  sprang  from 
his  seat  and  said  gently  to  the  Professor  : 

"  Remain  with  us,  and  may  Heaven  give  you  every 
blessing." 

As  the  two  men  walked  up  the  foot-path  together, 
the  Proprietor  continued,  with  a  sudden  flash  of  good 
humor  : 

''You  have  compelled  me,  dear  Professor,  to  act 
as  a  spy  about  your  dwelling-place.  I  have  learned 
that  you  lead  a  quiet  life,  and  that  you  pay  your  bills 
punctually.  Your  servant  speaks  reverentially  of  you, 
and  you  stand  high  in  the  opinion  of  your  neighbors. 
In  the  city  you  are  spoken  of  as  a  distinguished  man, 
and  what  you  have  said  of  yourself  is  in  all  respects 
confirmed.  Your  lodgings  are  very  handsome,  the 
kitchen  is  too  small,  and  your  storeroom  is  smaller 


204  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

than  one  of  our  cupboards.  From  your  windows  you 
have  at  least  some  view  of  the  country." 

Beyond  this  not  a  word  was  spoken  concerning  the 
object  of  the  journey,  but  the  Professor  listened  hope- 
fully to  the  other  observations  of  the  Proprietor,  how 
opulent  were  the  citizens,  and  how  brilliant  the  shops, 
also  of  the  height  of  the  houses  in  the  market-place, 
the  throngs  of  people  in  the  streets,  and  of  the  pigeons, 
which,  according  to  old  custom,  were  kept  by  the 
town  council,  and  boldly  hopped  about  like  officials 
among  the  carriages  and  passing  human  beings. 

It  was  early  morning,  and  again  the  first  rays  of  the 
sun  warmed  the  earth.  After  a 'sleepless  night,  Use 
hastened  through  the  garden  to  the  little  bath-house 
that  her  father  had  built  among  the  reeds  and  bushes. 
There  she  bathed  her  white  limbs  in  the  water,  dressed 
herself  quickly  and  ascended  the  path  which  passed 
by  the  grotto  to  the  top  of  the  hill,  seeking  the  rays  of 
the  sun.  As  she  knew  that  the  cool  night  air  still  lay 
in  the  lower  ground,  she  climbed  still  higher,  where 
the  hill  sloped  steeply  towards  the  grotto  down  into 
the  valley.  There,  on  the  declivity,  among  the  copse, 
she  seated  herself,  far  from  every  human  eye,  drying 
her  hair  in  the  sun's  rays  and  arranging  her  morning 
attire. 

She  gazed  upon  her  father's  house  where  she  sup- 
posed the  friend  still  lay  slumbering,  and  looked  down 
before  her  on  the  stone  roof  of  the  grotto,  and  on  the 
large  tuft  of  the  willow  rose,  with  the  white  wool  of  its 
seed  bursting  from  the  pod.  She  supported  her  head 
on  her  hand,  and  thought  of  the  evening  that  had 
past.  How  little  he  had  spoken,  and  her  father  had 
scarcely  mentioned  his  journey.  But  whatever  an- 
xious cares  passed  through  her  mind,  her  spirits  had 


THE    WOOING.  205 

been  refreshed  by  the  sparkling  water,  and  now  the 
morning  cast  its  mild  light  over  her  heart. 

There  sat  the  child  of  the  house.  She  wrung  the 
water  out  of  her  hair  and  rested  her  white  feet  on  the 
moss.  Near  her  the  bees  hummed  over  the  wild  thyme, 
and  one  little  worker  circled  threateningly  round  her 
feet.  Use  moved,  and  pushed  one  of  her  shoes  ;  the 
shoe  slid  down,  turned  a  somersault,  and  went  bound- 
ing away  over  moss  and  stone,  till  it  leapt  by  the  wil- 
low rose  and  disappeared  in  the  depth.  She  put  on 
the  fellow  of  the  fugitive  and  hastened  along  the  path 
to  the  grotto.  Turning  round  the  corner  of  the  rock 
she  stepped  back  startled,  for  in  front  of  the  grotto 
stood  the  Professor,  thoughtfully  contemplating  the 
embroidered  arabesques  of  the  shoe.  The  sensitive 
man  was  scarcely  less  startled  than  Use  at  this  sudden 
encounter.  He  also  had  been  impelled  to  go  out 
into  the  early  morning,  to  the  spot  where  first  the 
heart  of  the  maiden  had  revealed  itself  to  him.  He 
had  seated  himself  on  a  stone  at  the  entrance,  and 
leaned  his  head  against  the  rock  in  deep  and  sorrow- 
ful thought.  Then  he  heard  a  soft  rustling,  and, 
amidst  gravel  and  sand,  the  little  masterpiece  of  art 
fell  close  to  his  feet.  He  hastened  forward,  for  he 
guessed  at  once  to  whom  the  bounding  shoe  belonged. 
There  he  saw  the  loved  one  standing  before  him,  in  a 
light  morning  dress,  enveloped  in  her  long  blond  hair, 
like  a  water  fairy  or  a  mountain  nymph. 

"  It  is  my  shoe,"  said  Use,  with  embarrassment, 
concealing  her  foot. 

"  I  know  it,"  said  the  man  of  learning,  equally  em- 
barrassed, pushing  the  shoe  reverently  to  the  border 
of  her  dress.  The  shoe  was  quickly  slipped  on,  but 
the  short  glimpse  of  the  white  foot  suddenly  gave  the 


2O6  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

Professor  heroic  courage,  such  as  he  had  not  had  for 
the  last  few  days. 

"  J  will  not  move  from  this  spot,"  he  cried,  reso- 
lutely. 

Use  drew  back  into  the  grotto  and  gathered  her 
hair  into  the  net  she  held  in  her  hand.  The  Professor 
stood  at  the  entrance  of  the  sanctuary  ;  near  him  hung 
the  long  shoots  of  the  blackberry,  the  bees  hummed 
over  the  wild  thyme,  and  his  heart  beat.  When  Use, 
with  blushing  cheeks,  stepped  out  of  the  grotto  into 
the  light  of  day,  she  heard  her  name  uttered  by  a  voice 
in  deep  emotion,  she  felt  her  hand  pressed,  an  ardent 
look  shot  from  those  true  eyes,  sweet  words  fell  from 
his  lips,  his  arm  clasped  her,  and  she  sank  silently  on 

his  heart. 

* 
*  * 

As  the  Professor  himself  on  another  occasion  had 
explained,  man  sometimes  forgets  that  his  life  rests 
on  a  compact  with  the  overwhelming  powers  of  nature, 
which,  unawares,  influence  the  little  lords  of  the  world. 
Thus  similar  unexpected  powers  now  controlled  the 
Professor  and  Use.  I  know  not  what  agencies  of  na- 
ture sent  the  bees,  or  threw  the  shoe.  Was  it  the 
elves  in  whom  Use  did  not  believe  ?  Or  was  it  one 
of  the  antique  acquaintances  of  the  Professor,  the 
goat-footed  Pan,  who  blew  his  reed-pipes  in  the  grotto  ? 

The  wooing  had  begun  in  a  scientific  manner,  but 
it  had  been  brought  to  a  conclusion  with  little  wisdom 
and  without  any  regard  for  formality. 


CHAPTER  XL 
SPITEHAHN. 

RAVEN-BLACK  night  brooded  over  the  hostile  houses. 
The  world  looked  like  a  great  coal-pit  in  which  the 
lights  had  been  extinguished.  The  wind  howled 
through  the  trees  of  the  park.  A  rustling  of  leaves 
and  crackling  of  branches  was  heard.  Nothing  was 
to  be  seen  but  a  monstrous  black  curtain  that  con- 
cealed the  neighboring  woods  and  a  black-tented  roof 
which  was  spread  over  the  houses.  The  streets  of  the 
city  were  empty.  All  who  loved  their  beds  had  long 
been  lying  therein,  and  whoever  possessed  a  nightcap 
had  now  pulled  it  over  his  ears.  Every  human  sound 
was  silenced ;  the  striking  of  the  tower-clock  was 
interrupted  by  the  stormy  winds,  and  each  tone  was 
driven  hither  and  thither,  that  no  one  could  count  the 
midnight  hour.  But  around  the  house  of  Mr.  Hum- 
mel the  yelping  dogs  pursued  their  wild  career  in  the 
courtyard,  undaunted  by  storm  or  darkness ;  and  when 
the  wind  blew  like  a  bugle-horn  between  the  houses, 
the  pack  dispelled  sleep  from  men  by  their  clamor  and 
din. 

"This  night  suits  them  well,"  thought  Gabriel,  in 
his  room.  "This  is  just  the  weather  for  them."  At 
last  he  slept,  and  dreamt  that  the  two  dogs  opened 
the  door  of  his  room,  placed  themselves  on  two  chairs 
before  his  bed  and  alternately  snapped  their  pocket 
pistols  at  him. 

As  he  was  lying  in  this  unquiet  sleep,  there  was  a 
knock  at  his  door. 

"  Get  up,  Gabriel !  "  called  out  the  old  porter  from 
the  factory;  "an  accident  has  happened." 


2O8  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

"Through  the  dogs,"  exclaimed  Gabriel,  spring- 
ing out  of  bed. 

"Some  one  must  have  broken  in,"  cried  the  man 
again,  through  the  door,  "the  dogs  are  lying  on  the 
ground." 

Gabriel,  alarmed,  put  on  his  boots  and  hastened 
into  the  yard,  which  was  dimly  lighted  by  the  dawn. 
There  lay  the  two  poor  watch-dogs  on  the  ground,  with 
no  other  sign  of  life  than  helpless  writhing.  Gabriel 
ran  to  the  warehouse,  examined  the  door  and  windows, 
and  then  the  house  ;  every  shutter  was  closed;  and  no 
sign  of  disturbance  could  be  discovered.  When  he 
returned,  Mr.  Hummel  was  standing  before  the  pros- 
trate dogs. 

"Gabriel,  a  dastardly  deed  has  been  perpetrated 
here.  Something  has  been  done  to  the  dogs.  Let 
them  both  lie  there ;  an  investigation  must  be  made. 
I  will  send  for  the  police." 

"  Indeed  ?  "  answered  Gabriel ;  "  compassion 
should  come  first,  then  the  police.  Perhaps  some- 
thing may  yet  be  done  for  the  poor  brutes." 

He  took  the  two  animals,  carried  them  to  the  light, 
and  examined  their  condition. 

"The  black  one  is  done  for,"  he  said,  compas- 
sionately. "The  red  one  has  still  some  life  in  him." 

"Go  to  the  veterinary  surgeon,  Klaus,"  exclaimed 
Mr.  Hummel,  "and  ask  him  to  do  me  the  favor  to 
get  up  at  once  ;  he  shall  be  remunerated.  This  case 
must  be  put  into  the  morning  paper.  I  require  satis- 
faction before  the  magistracy  and  town  council. — 
Gabriel,"  he  continued,  in  angry  excitement,  "the  dogs 
of  citizens  are  being  murdered  :  it  is  the  work  of  low 
malice,  but  I -am  not  the  man  to  put  up  with  such  as- 
sassins. They  shall  be  made  an  example  of,  Gabriel." 


SPITEHAHN.  2Og 

Meanwhile  Gabriel  stroked  the  fur  of  the  red  dog, 
which  rolled  its  eyes  wildly  under  its  shaggy  brow  and 
stretched  out  its  paws  piteously. 

At  last  the  veterinary  surgeon  came.  He  found 
the  whole  family  assembled  in  the  court.  Mrs.  Hum- 
mel, still  in  her  night-dress,  brought  him  a  cup  of 
coffee,  while  drinking  which  he  sympathized  with  them, 
and  then  began  the  examination.  The  verdict  of  the 
expert  pointed  to  poisoning.  The  dissection  showed 
tha>t  a  little  dumpling  with  arsenic  had  been  eaten, 
and,  what  vexed  Mr.  Hummel  still  more,  there  were 
glass  splinters  besides.  For  the  red  dog  there  was  a 
doubtful  prospect  of  recovery. 

It  was  a  gloomy  morning  for  the  Hummel  family. 
Before  breakfast  Mr.  Hummel  sat  down  to  his  writing 
table  and  wrote  out  an  advertisement  for  the  daily  pa- 
per, in  which  ten  dollars  reward  was  offered  to  any 
one  who  would  make  known  the  name  of  the  malig- 
nant poisoner  of  his  dog.  The  ten  dollars  were  un- 
derlined with  three  dashes.  Then  he  went  to  his  win- 
dow and  looked  savagely  upon  the  haunts  of  his  op- 
ponent and  on  the  Chinese  temple  which  had  been  the 
occasion  of  this  new  disturbance.  Finally  he  began 
to  pace  up  and  down  the  room,  turning  to  his  wife  as 
he  passed  and  muttering  : 

"I  have  not  the  slightest  doubt  about  the  matter 
— not  the  slightest  doubt." 

"I  do  not  understand  you,"  answered  his  wife, 
who  on  this  trying  morning  was  taking  a  second  break- 
fast;  "and  I  do  not  understand  how  you  can  be  so 
positive  in  this  matter.  It  is  true,  there  is  something 
about  those  people  that  has  always  been  repugnant  to 
us,  and  it  may  be  a  misfortune  to  have  such  neighbors. 
But  you  have  no  right  to  assume  that  they  have  poi- 


2IO  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

soned  the  dogs.  I  cannot  think  that  such  an  idea 
could  have  entered  into  the  head  of  Mrs.  Hahn.  I 
admit  that  she  is  an  ordinary  woman.  Moreover,  the 
doctor  says  it  was  dumplings ;  which  points  to  a  woman 
as  the  guilty  person.  But  when  our  red  dog  was 
caught  running  off  with  the  snipe  they  were  going  to 
have  for  dinner,  she  sent  me  back  the  dog  with  her  com- 
pliments, saying  she  thought  it  was  not  good  behavior 
in  him,  as  he  had  eaten  three  of  the  birds.  That  was 
civil,  and  I  can  find  no  murderous  intention  in.it. 
And  he  surely  does  not  look  as  if  he  would  do  any- 
thing to  our  dogs  at  midnight." 

"He  is  a  treacherous  fellow,"  growled  Mr.  Hum- 
mel; "but  you  have  always  had  your  own  opinion 
about  those  people.  He  has  played  the  hypocrite  to- 
ward me  from  the  very  first  day,  when  he  stood  by  his 
pile  of  bricks  before  these  windows  and  turned  his 
back  upon  me.  I  have  always  allowed  myself  to  be 
persuaded  by  you  women  to  treat  him  as  a  neighbor, 
with  greetings  and  civil  speeches ;  and  1  have  always 
been  silent  when  you  have  carried  on  your  idle  gossip 
with  the  woman  over  there." 

"Our  idle  gossip,  Henry,"  exclaimed  the  wife,  set- 
ting down  her  coffee-cup  with  a  clatter  ;  "I  must  beg 
of  you  not  to  forget  the  respect  that  is  due  to  me." 

"Well,  well,  I  meant  no  slight,"  Mr.  Hummel 
hastened  to  add,  hoping  to  allay  the  storm  which  he 
had  inopportunely  brought  upon  himself 

"What  you  meant,  you,  of  course,  know.  I  take 
it  as  I  heard  it.  But  it  shows  little  feeling  in  you,  Mr. 
Hummel,  for  the  sake  of  a  dead  dog  to  treat  your  wife 
and  daughter  as  idle  gossips." 

This  disagreement  added  still  more  to  the  gloom 
and  ill-humor  of  the  morning,  but  did  not  in  any  way 


SPITEHAHN.  211 

advance  the  discovery  of  the  culprit.  It  was  in  vain 
that  the  mistress  of  the  house,  in  order  to  divert  her 
husband's  suspicions  from  the  Hahn  family,  raised 
many  other  conjectures,  and,  with  Laura's  help,  tried 
to  throw  the  blame  on  their  own  employes  or  the 
watchman,  and  that  she  at  last  suggested  even  the 
shop-porter  over  the  way  as  the  possible  evil-doer. 
Alas  !  the  reputation  of  the  dogs  was  so  dreadful  that 
the  Hummel  family  could  more  easily  count  the  few 
people  who  did  not  wish  evil  to  the  dogs,  than  the  many 
whose  wish  and  interest  it  was  to  see  the  monsters 
at  the  bottom  of  Cocytus.  The  news  ran  like  wildfire 
through  the  streets,  a  crowd  gathered  around  the 
fruit-woman  at  the  corner,  and  people  spoke  of  the 
evil  deed  everywhere,  pitilessly,  hostilely,  and  mali- 
ciously. Even  among  those  in  the  streets  who  tried 
to  show  outward  signs  of  sympathy,  the  prevailing 
feeling  was  hardly  concealed.  It  is  true  there  were 
some  sympathisers.  First  Mrs.  Knips,  the  washer- 
woman, with  voluble  indignation  ;  then  even  Knips 
the  younger  ventured  pityingly  into  the  neighborhood 
of  the  house — he  was  clerk  in  the  hostile  business, 
having  gone  over  to  the  enemy,  but  never  ceased  to 
show  respect  to  his  former  instructor  on  all  occasions, 
and  to  pay  unacceptable  homage  to  Miss  Laura.  At 
last  the  comedian  of  the  theatre,  whom  they  generally 
invited  on  Sundays,  came,  and  related  many  amusing 
stories.  But  even  these  few  faithful  adherents  were  sus- 
pected by  some  of  the  household.  Gabriel  distrusted 
the  Knips  family,  while  Laura  detested  the  clerk,  and 
the  comedian,  formerly  a  welcome  guest,  had,  some 
evenings  before,  in  passing  by,  inconsiderately  ex- 
pressed to  a  companion,  that  it  would  be  a  praise- 
worthy deed  to  remove  these  dogs  from  the  stage  of 


212  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

life.  Now  this  unhappy  suggestion  was  repeated  to 
the  mistress  of  the  house,  and  it  lay  heavy  on  her 
heart.  For  fifteen  years  she  had  accepted  this  man's 
homage  with  pleasure,  shown  him  much  friendliness, 
and  given  him  enthusiastic  applause  at  the  theatre, 
not  to  speak  of  the  Sunday  dinners  and  preserves.  But 
now  when  the  gentleman  lowered  his  head  sympa- 
thisingly  and  expressed  his  horror  and  indignation 
at  the  deed,  his  face,  from  the  long  habit  of  comic 
action,  lengthened  itself  so  hypocritically,  that  Mrs. 
Hummel  suddenly  fancied  she  saw  a  devil  grinning 
out  of  the  features  of  the  once  esteemed  man.  Her 
sharp  remarks  about  Judases  frightened  in  turn  the 
comedian,  revealing  to  him  the  danger  of  losing  his 
best  house  of  entertainment,  and  the  more  dolorous 
he  felt,  the  more  equivocal  became  his  expression. 

During  all  these  occurrences  the  Hahn  family  kept 
quiet  in  the  background.  They  displayed  no  signs  of 
undue  pleasure,  and  no  unnatural  sympathy  came 
from  the  silent  walls.  But  at  mid-day,  when  Mrs. 
Hummel  went  to  refresh  herself  a  little  in  the  air,  she 
met  her  neighbor ;  and  Mrs.  Hahn,  who  since  the 
garden  scene  had  felt  herself  in  the  wrong,  stopped 
and  expressed  her  regret  in  a  friendly  way  that  Mrs. 
Hummel  had  experienced  such  an  unpleasant  acci- 
dent. But  the  hostile  feeling  and  suspicion  of  her 
husband  echoed  in  the  answer.  Mrs.  Hummel  spoke 
coldly,  and  both  separated  with  a  feeling  of  animosity. 

Meanwhile  Laura  sat  at  her  writing-table, and  noted 
down  in  her  private  journal  the  events  of  the  day,  and 
with  a  light  heart  she  concluded  with  these  lines  : 

"They're  dead  and  gone  !    Removed  the  curse  of  hate- 
Erased  the  stain  is  from  the  book  of  fate." 


SPITEHAHN.  213 

This  prophecy  contained  about  as  much  truth  as 
if,  after  the  first  skirmish  of  the  siege  of  Troy,  Cas- 
sandra had  noted  it  down  in  Hector's  album.  It  was 
confuted  by  the  endless  horrors  of  the  future. 

Spitehahn  at  all  events  was  not  gone ;  his  life  was 
saved.  But  the  night's  treachery  had  exercised  a  sor 
rowful  influence  on  the  creature,  both  body  and  soul. 
He  had  never  been  beautiful.  But  now  his  body  was 
thin,  his  head  swelled,  and  his  shaggy  coat  bristly. 
The  glass  splinters  which  the  skillful  doctor  had  re- 
moved from  his  stomach  seemed  to  have  gotten  some- 
how into  his  hairs,  so  that  they  started  bristling  from 
his  body  like  a  bottle-brush  ;  his  curly  tail  became 
bare,  only  at  the  end  did  there  remain  a  tuft  of  hair, 
like  a  bent  cork-screw  with  a  cork  at  the  end.  He 
no  longer  wagged  his  tail ;  his  yelping  ceased  ;  night 
and  day  he  roved  about  silently ;  only  occasionally  a 
low,  significant  growl  was  heard.  He  came  back  to 
life,  but  all  softer  feelings  were  dead  in  him  ;  he  be- 
came averse  to  human  beings,  and  fostered  dark  sus- 
picions in  his  soul ;  all  attachment  and  fidelity  ceased  ; 
instead  of  which  he  evinced  a  lurking  malice  and  gen- 
eral vindictiveness.  Yet  Mr.  Hummel  did  not  mind 
this  change ;  the  dog  was  the  victim  of  unheard-of 
wickedness,  which  had  been  intended  for  the  injury  of 
himself,  the  proprietor  of  the  house  ;  and  had  he  been 
ten  times  more  hideous  and  savage  to  human  beings, 
Mr.  Hummel  would  still  have  made  a  pet  of  him.  He 
stroked  him,  and  did  not  take  it  amiss  when  the  dog 
showed  his  gratitude  by  snapping  at  the  fingers  of  his 
master. 

Whilst  the  flames  of  just  irritation  still  shot  forth 
from  this  new  firebrand  of  the  family  peace,  Fritz  re- 
turned from  his  vacation.  His  mother  immediately 


214  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

related  to  him  all  the  events  of  the  last  few  weeks — 
the  bell-ringing,  the  dogs,  the  new  hostility. 

"  It  was  well  that  you  were  away.  Were  the  beds 
at  the  inns  comfortable  ?  They  are  so  careless  now- 
adays of  strangers.  I  hope  that  in  the  country,  where 
they  rear  geese,  people  show  more  care.  You  must 
talk  to  your  father  about  this  new  quarrel,  and  do 
what  you  can  to  restore  peace." 

Fritz  listened  silently  to  his  mother's  account,  and 
said  soothingly  : 

"You  know  it  is  not  the  first  time.  It  will  pass 
over. " 

This  news  did  not  contribute  to  increase  the  cheer- 
fulness of  the  Doctor.  Sadly  he  looked  from  his  room 
on  the  neighboring  house  and  the  windows  of  his  friend. 
In  a  short  time  a  new  household  would  be  established 
there  ;  might  not  then  his  friendship  with  the  Profes- 
sor be  affected  by  the  disturbances  which  of  old  existed 
between  the  two  houses  ?  He  then  began  to  arrange 
the  notes  that  he  had  collected  on  his  journey.  But  to- 
day the  footprints  of  the  grotto  gave  him  an  uncomfort- 
able feeling,  and  the  tales  of  the  wild  hunters  made  him 
think  of  Use's  wise  words,  "It  is  all  superstition." 
He  put  away  his  papers,  seized  his  hat,  and  went  out, 
meditating,  and  not  exactly  gaily  disposed,  into  the 
park.  When  he  saw  Laura  Hummel  a  few  steps  be- 
fore him  on  the  same  path,  he  turned  aside,  in  order 
not  to  meet  any  one  from  the  hostile  house. 

Laura  was  carrying  a  little  basket  of  fruit  to  her 
godmother.  The  old  lady  resided  in  her  summer  house 
in  an  adjacent  village,  and  a  shady  footpath  through  the 
park  led  to  it.  It  was  lonely  at  this  hour  in  the  wood, 
and  the  birds  alone  saw  how  free  from  care  was  the 
smile  that  played  around  the  little  mouth  of  the  agile 


SPITEHAHN.  215 

girl,  and  how  full  of  glee  were  the  beautiful  deep  blue 
eyes  that  peered  into  the  thicket.  But  although  Laura 
seemed  to  hasten,  she  stopped  frequently.  First  it 
occurred  to  her  that  the  leaves  of  the  copper  beech 
would  look  well  in  her  brown  felt  hat  ;  she  broke  off  a 
branch,  took  off  her  hat,  and  stuck  the  leaves  on  it ; 
and  in  order  to  give  herself  the  pleasure  of  looking  at 
it,  she  held  her  hat  in  her  hand  and  put  a  gauze  hand- 
kerchief over  her  head  for  protection  against  the 
rays  of  the  sun.  She  admired  the  chequered  light 
thrown  by  the  sun  on  the  road.  Then  a  squirrel  ran 
across  the  path,  scrambled  quick  as  lightning  up  a 
tree  and  hid  itself  in  the  branches;  Laura  looked 
up  and  perceived  its  beautiful  bushy  tail  through  the 
foliage,  and  fancied  herself  on  the  top  of  the  tree, 
in  the  midst  of  the  foliage  and  fruit,  swinging  on  a 
branch,  then  leaping  from  bough  to  bough,  and  finally 
taking  a  walk — high  in  the  air,  on  the  tops  of  the 
trees — over  the  fluttering  leaves  as  though  upon  green 
hills. 

When  she  came  near  the  water  that  flowed  on  the 
other  side  of  the  path,  she  perceived  that  a  large  num- 
ber of  frogs,  sitting  in  the  sun  on  the  bank,  sprang 
into  the  water  with  great  leaps,  as  "if  by  word  of  com- 
mand. She  ran  up  to  them  and  saw  with  astonish- 
ment that  in  the  water,  they  had  a  different  ap- 
pearance ;  they  were  not  at  all  so  clumsy ;  they  went 
along  like  little  gentlemen  with  big  stomachs  and 
thick  necks,  but  with  long  legs  which  struck  out  vig- 
orously. Then  when  a  large  frog  steered  up  to  her 
and  popped  his  head  out  of  the  water,  she  drew  back 
and  laughed  at  herself.  Thus  she  passed  through  the 
wood,  herself  a  butterfly,  and  at  peace  with  all  the 
world. 


2l6  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

But  her  fate  pursued  her.  Spitehahn,  from  his 
usual  place  on  the  stone  steps,  had  watched  her  move- 
ments from  under  the  wild  hairs  that  hung  over  his 
head  whisker-like,  he  kept  her  in  view,  got  up  at  last 
and  trotted  silently  behind  her,  undisturbed  by  the  rays 
of  the  sun,  the  basket  of  fruit,  or  the  red  handkerchief 
of  his  young  mistress.  Between  the  town  and  the 
village  the  road  ascended  from  the  valley  and  its  trees 
to  a  bare  plain,  on  which  the  soldiery  of  the  town 
sometimes  manoeuvred,  and  where  in  peaceful  hours 
a  shepherd  pastured  his  flock.  The  path  ran  obliquely 
over  the  open  plain  to  the  village.  Laura  stopped  on 
the  height  at  times  to  admire,  the  distant  sheep  and 
the  brown  shepherd,  who  looked  very  picturesque  with 
his  large  hat  and  crook.  She  had  already  passed  the 
flock  when  she  heard  a  barking  and  threatening  cry 
behind  her ;  turning  round  she  saw  the  peaceful 
community  in  wild  uproar.  The  sheep  scattered  in 
all  directions — some  running  away  frightened,  others 
huddled  together  in  a  ditch;  the  shepherd's  dogs 
barked,  and  the  shepherd  and  his  boy  ran  with  raised 
sticks  around  the  disturbed  flock.  While  Laura  was 
looking  astonished  at  the  tumult,  the  shepherd  and 
his  boy  rushed  up  to  her,  followed  by  two  large  dogs. 
She  felt  herself  seized  by  a  rough  man's  hand  ;  she 
saw  the  angry  face  of  the  shepherd,  and  his  stick  was 
brandished  close  before  her  eyes. 

"Your  dog  has  dispersed  my  flock.  I  demand 
punishment  and  compensation." 

Frightened  and  pale  as  death,  Laura  sought  for 
her  purse  ;  she  could  scarcely  find  words  to  say,  "  I 
have  no  dog;  let  me  go,  good  shepherd." 

But  the  man  shook  her  arm  roughly.     Two  gigantic 


SPITEHAHN.  217 

black  dogs  sprang  upon  her  and  snapped  at  her  hand- 
kerchief. 

"  It  is  your  dog  ;  I  know  the  red  rascal,"  cried  the 
shepherd. 

This  was  quite  true,  for  Spitehahn  had  also  ob- 
served the  flock  of  sheep  and  devised  his  dire  plan. 
Suddenly,  with  a  hoarse  yell,  he  sprang  on  a  sheep 
and  bit  it  severely  in  the  leg.  Then  followed  the  flight 
of  the  flock,  rushing  together  in  a  heap — Spitehahn  in 
the  midst  of  them,  barking,  scratching  and  biting,  the 
brute  sped  along  a  dry  ditch  to  the  left,  and  finally 
down  the  slope  to  the  wood  into  the  thickest  copse.  At 
length  he  trotted  home  in  safety,  showing  his  teeth, 
and  leaving  his  young  mistress  trembling  beneath  the 
hand  of  the  shepherd,  who  was  still  brandishing  his 
stick  over  her. 

"Let  go  of  the  young  lady,"  called  out  the  angry 
voice  of  a  man.  Frit^  Hahn  sprang  forward,  pushed 
back  the  arm  of  the  shepherd,  and  caught  Laura, 
fainting,  in  his  arms. 

The  interposition  of  a  third  party  drew  from  the 
shepherd  new  complaints,  at  the  conclusion  of  which 
he  again,  in  a  flaming  passion,  endeavored  to  lay  hold 
of  the  girl,  and  threatened  to  set  his  dogs  at  the  Doc- 
tor. But  Fritz,  deeply  roused,  exclaimed,  "Keep 
your  dogs  back,  and  behave  yourself  like  a  man,  or  I 
will  have  you  punished.  If  the  dog  injured  your  flock, 
adequate  compensation  shall  be  made.  I  am  ready  to 
be  security  to  you  or  to  the  owner  of  these  sheep." 

Thus  he  spoke,  holding  Laura  firmly  in  his  arms; 
her  head  lay  upon  his  shoulders,  and  the  red  hand- 
kerchief hung  over  his  waistcoat  down  to  his  breast. 
"Compose  yourself,  dear  Miss,"  he  said,  with  tender 
anxiety. 


2l8  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

Laura  raised  her  head  and  looked  fearfully  on  the 
countenance  which,  excited  with"  tenderness  and  sym- 
pathy, bent  over  her,  and  she  perceived  her  situation 
with  alarm.  Fearful  fate  !  He  again,  for  the  third 
time,  the  inevitable  friend  and  preserver  !  She  extri- 
cated herself  from  him,  and  said,  in  a  faint  voice,  "I 
thank  you,  Doctor,  I  can  walk  alone  now. " 

"No,  I  cannot  leave  you  thus,"  cried  Fritz,  and 
again  began  to  negotiate  with  the  shepherd,  who 
meanwhile  had  fetched  the  two  victims  of  the  mur- 
derous dog,  and  laid  them  down  as  proofs  of  the  ill 
deed.  Fritz  put  his  hand  into  his  pocket  and  handed 
the  shepherd  a  part  of  the  money  promised  as  com- 
pensation, gave  him  his  name,  and  settled  a  future 
meeting  with  the  man,  who,  after  the  appearance  of 
the  money,  became  more  calm. 

"I  pray  you  take  my  arm,"  he  said,  turning  chiv- 
alrously to  Laura. 

"  I  cannot  accept  that,"  replied  the  girl,  quite  con- 
fused, and  thinking  of  the  existing  hostility. 

"It  is  only  my  duty  as  a  man,"  said  Fritz,  sooth- 
ingly. "You  are  too  exhausted  to  go  alone." 

"Then  I  beg  of  you  to  take  me  to  my  godmother ; 
she  lives  near  here." 

Fritz  took  the  little  basket  from  her,  collected  the 
fruit  that  had  fallen  out,  and  then  conducted  her  to 
the  village. 

"I  should  not  have  been  so  much  afraid  of  the 
man,"  said  Laura,  "but  the  black  dogs  were  so  fear- 
ful." 

She  took  his  arm  hesitatingly  ;  for  now,  when  the 
fright  had  passed,  she  felt  the  painfulness  of  her  situa-, 
tion,  and  was  alas  !  conscience-smitten.  For  early  in 
the  day  she  had  thought  the  travelling  toilet  of  the  Doc- 


SPITEHAHN.  219 

tor,  as  she  saw  him  return  home,  unendurable;  but 
Fritz  was  not  a  man  who  could  long  be  considered 
unendurable.  He  was  now  full  of  tender  feelings  and 
care  for  her,  endeavored  to  spare  her  every  roughness 
on  the  road,  stretching  out  his  foot  in  going  along  to 
put  the  little  stones  out  of  the  way.  He  began  an  in- 
different conversation  about  her  godmother,  which 
obliged  her  to  talk,  and  brought  other  thoughts  into 
her  head.  It  happened  besides,  that  he  himself  highly 
esteemed  the  lady  in  question.  Indeed,  she  had  once, 
when  he  was  a  schoolboy,  given  him  a  cherry-cake 
and  he  had  in  return  composed  a  poem  on  her  birth- 
day. At  the  word  poem  Laura  was  astounded.  In 
that  house,  too  !  Could  they  write  poetry?  But  then 
the  Doctor  spoke  very  slightingly  of  the  elevating 
creations  of  happier  hours,  and  when  she  asked  him  : 

"  Have  you  really  written  poetry  ?  " 

He  answered,  laughingly,  "Only  for  home  use, 
like  every  one." 

Then  she  felt  much  depressed  by  his  cold  disregard 
of  the  muse.  There  certainly  was  a  difference  be- 
tween one  style  of  verse  and  another  ;  at  Hahn's  they 
only  wrote  about  cherry-cakes.  But  immediately  after- 
wards she  blamed  herself  for  her  unbecoming  thoughts 
towards  her  benefactor.  So  she  turned  in  a  friendly 
way  to  him  and  spoke  of  the  pleasure  she  had  found 
just  before  in  watching  the  squirrels  of  the  wood.  She 
had  once  bought  one  of  a  boy  in  the  streets  and  had 
set  it  free,  and  the  little  animal  had  twice  sprung  from 
the  trees  upon  her  shoulders  ;  and  she  had  at  last  run 
away  with  tears  in  her  eyes,  that  it  might  remain  in 
the  woods.  Now,  when  she  saw  a  squirrel,  it  always 
appeared  as  if  it  belonged  to  her ;  and  she  undoubt- 
edly deceived  herself ;  but  the  squirrels  seemed  to  be 


22O  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

of  the  same  opinion  with  regard  to  her.  This  story 
led  to  the  remarkable  discovery  that  the  Doctor  had 
had  a  similar  experience  with  a  small  owl,  and  he  imi- 
tated the  way  in  which  the  owl  nodded  its  head  when 
he  brought  in  its  food  ;  and  in  doing  so  his  spectacles 
looked  so  much  like  owl's  eyes  that  Laura  could  not 
help  laughing. 

Conversing  in  this  way  they  arrived  at  her  god- 
mother's house.  Fritz  relinquished  Laura's  arm  and 
wished  to  take  his  leave.  She  remained  standing 
on  the  threshold  with  her  hand  on  the  latch  and  said, 
in  an  embarrassed  tone  : 

"Will  you  not  come  in,  at  least  for  a  moment,  as 
you  know  my  godmother  ?" 

"With  pleasure,"  replied  the  Doctor. 

Her  godmother  was  sitting  in  her  summer  cottage, 
which  was  somewhat  smaller,  damper,  and  less  pleas- 
ant than  her  lodging  in  the  town.  When  the  children 
of  the  hostile  houses  entered  together — first  Laura, 
still  pale  and  solemn,  behind  her  the  Doctor  with  an 
equally  serious  countenance — the  good  lady  was  so 
astonished  that  she  sat  staring  on  the  sofa  and  could 
only  bring  out  the  words  : 

"What  do  I  see?  Is  it  possible?  You  two  chil- 
dren together !  " 

This  exclamation  dispelled  the  magic  which  for  a 
moment  had  bound  the  young  souls  to  each  other. 
Laura  went  coldly  up  to  her  godmother  and  related 
how  the  Doctor  had  accidently  come  up  at  the  time  of 
her  distress.  But  the  Doctor  explained  that  he  had 
only  wished  to  bring  the  young  lady  safely  to  her  ; 
then  he  inquired  after  the  health  of  the  old  lady 
and  took  his  leave. 

While   her  godmother   was   applying  restoratives 


SPITEHAHN.  221 

and  determining  that  Laura  should  return  home  an- 
other way  under  the  care  of  her  maid-servant,  the 
Doctor  went  back  with  light  steps  to  the  wood.  His 
frame  of  mind  was  entirely  changed  and  a  smile  fre- 
quently passed  over  his  countenance.  The  thought 
was  constantly  recurring  to  him  how  the  girl  had  rested 
in  his  arms.  He  had  felt  her  bosom  against  his ;  her 
hair  had  touched  his  cheeks  and  he  had  gazed  on  her 
white  neck.  The  worthy  youth  blushed  at  the  thought 
and  hastened  his  steps.  In  one  thing  at  least  the  Profes- 
sor was  not  wrong — a  woman  is,  after  all,  very  different 
from  the  ideal  that  a  man  derives  from  the  study  of 
human  life  and  the  history  of  the  world.  It  certainly 
seemed  to  the  Doctor  now  that  there  was  something 
very  attractive  in  wavy  locks,  rosy  cheeks  and  a  beau- 
tiful form.  He  admitted  that  this  discovery  was  not 
new,  but  he  had  not  hitherto  felt  its  value  with  such 
distinctness.  It  had  been  so  touching  when  she  re- 
covered from  her  swoon,  opened  her  eyes  and  withdrew 
herself  bashfully  from  his  arms.  Also  his  having  de- 
fended her  so  valiantly  rilled  him  with  cheerful  pride. 
He  stopped  on  the  field  of  battle  and  laughed  out  right 
heartily.  Then  he  went  along  the  same  road  by  which 
Laura  had  come  from  the  wood.  He  looked  along  the 
ground  as  if  he  could  discover  the  traces  of  her  little 
feet  upon  the  gravel,  and  he  enjoyed  the  brightness 
and  warmth  of  the  air,  the  alluring  song  of  the  birds, 
the  fluttering  of  the  dragon-flies,  with  as  light  a  heart 
as  his  pretty  neighbor  had  done  shortly  before.  Then 
the  recollection  of  his  friend  came  across  him.  He 
thought,  with  satisfaction,  of  the  agitations  of  the 
Professor's  mind  and  the  commotion  which  Thusnelda 
had  brought  into  it.  The  result  had  had  a  droll  effect 
upon  the  Professor.  His  friend  had  been  very  comical 


222  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

in  the  pathos  of  his  rising  passion.  Such  a  firm, 
earnest  being  contrasted  curiously  with  the  whimsical 
attacks  which  fate  makes  on  the  life  of  earth-born 
creatures.  When  he  came  to  the  last  bush  in  which 
rustled  one  of  the  little  grasshoppers,  whose  chirping 
he  had  often  heard  in  times  of  anxiety,  he  spoke  out 
gaily,  "  Even  these  have  their  turn,  first  the  sheep,  then 
the  grasshoppers."  He  began  singing  half  aloud  a 
certain  old  song  in  which  the  grasshoppers  were  asked 
to  go  away  and  no  longer  to  burden  his  spirit.  Thus 
he  returned  home  from  his  walk  in  right  cheerful  frame 
of  mind,  like  a  man  of  the  world. 

"Henry,"  began  Mrs.  Hummel,  in  the  afternoon, 
solemnly  to  her  husband,  "  compose  yourself  to  listen 
to  a  terrible  story.  I  conjure  you  to  remain  calm  and 
avoid  a  scene,  and  take  pains  to  overcome  your  aver- 
sion. And,  above  all,  consider  our  feelings." 

She  then  related  to  him  the  misfortune  that  had  oc- 
curred. 

"As  to  the  dog,"  replied  Mr.  Hummel,  emphati- 
cally, "it  has  not  been  clearly  shown  that  it  was  our 
dog.  The  testimony  of  the  shepherd  does  not  satisfy 
me  ;  I  know  this  fellow  and  require  an  impartial  wit- 
ness. There  are  so  many  strange  dogs  running  about 
the  city  nowadays  that  the  safety  of  the  community  is 
endangered,  and  I  have  often  said  it  is  a  disgrace  to 
our  police.  But  if  it  should  be  our  dog,  I  cannot  see 
anything  particularly  wrong  about  it.  If  the  sheep 
stretched  out  its  leg  to  him  and  he  bit  it  a  little,  that 
is  its  own  affair  and  there  is  nothing  to  be  said  about  it. 
As  to  what  further  concerns  the  shepherd,  I  know  his 
master — so  that  is  my  affair.  Finally,  with  regard  to 
the  young  man  across  the  way  that  is  your  affair.  I 
do  not  wish  to  visit  on  him  the  evil  conduct  of  his 


SPITEHAHN.  223 

parents,  but  I  must  say  once  for  all  that  I  will  have 
nothing  to  do  with  the  people  opposite." 

"  I  must  call  your  attention  to  the  fact,  Mr.  Hum- 
mel," interposed  his  wife,  "that  the  Doctor  has  al- 
ready paid  money  to  the  shepherd." 

"  Money  for  my  child  ?  That  I  will  not  tolerate," 
exclaimed  Mr.  Hummel.  "  How  much  did  he  pay  ?  " 

"But  father "  said  Laura  imploringly. 

"Can  you  expect,"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Hummel,  re- 
proachfully, "that  your  daughter,  in  danger  of  death, 
should  count  the  groschens  that  her  rescuer  paid  for 
her  ?  " 

"That's  just  like  a  woman,"  grumbled  the  master 
of  the  house  ;  "you  have  no  head  for  business.  Can 
you  not  incidentally  ask  him  ?  The  shepherd  I  take 
upon  myself,  but  shall  not  trouble  myself  about  the 
Doctor.  Only  this  I  tell  you.  The  affair  must  be 
shortly  settled  and  our  relations  with  that  house  must 
.remain  as  before.  All  I  ask  is  to  go  on  smoothly.  I 
intend  to  take  no  notice  of  these  Hahns.  " 

After  this  decision  he  left  the  ladies  to  their  feelings. 

"Your  father  is  right,"  said  Mrs.  Hummel,  "to 
leave  the  principal  matter  to  us.  With  his  harsh  dis- 
position thanks  would  come  very  ungraciously." 

"Mother,"  said  Laura,  entreatingly,  "you  have 
more  tact  than  I.  Can  you  not  go  over  there  ?  " 

"  My  child,"  answered  Mrs.  Hummel,  clearing  her 
throat,  "that  is  not  easy.  This  unfortunate  occur- 
rence of  the  dogs  has  left  us  women  too  much  at  va- 
riance. No,  as  you  are  the  principal  person  now  con- 
cerned, you  must  go  over  there  yourself." 

"  I  cannot  visit  the  Doctor,"  exclaimed  Laura 
alarmed. 

"  That  is  not  necessary,"  said  Mrs.  Hummel,  sooth- 


224 


THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 


ingly.  "There  is  one  advantage  our  neighborhood  pos- 
sesses— we  are  able  to  see  from  our  windows  when  the 
men  go  out.  You  may  then  rush  over  to  the  mother  and 
address  your  thanks  for  the  son  to  her.  You  are  very 
judicious,  my  child,  and  will  know  how  to  act." 

Thereupon  Laura  took  her  seat  at  the  window,  not 
well  pleased  to  sit  as  watcher  upon  her  neighbors  ; 
this  lying  in  wait  was  repugnant  to  her.  At  last  the 
Doctor  appeared  on  the  threshold  ;  he  looked  the  same 
as  usual ;  there  was  nothing  chivalrous  to  be  seen  in 
him  ;  his  figure  was  slender  and  he  was  of  middle 
height — Laura  liked  tall  people.  He  had  an  intellect- 
ual countenance,  but  it  was  concealed  by  his  large 
spectacles,  which  gave  him  a  pedantic  appearance  ; 
when  he  did  smile  his  face  became  quite  handsome, 
but  his  usual  serious  expression  was  not  becoming  to 
him.  Fritz  disappeared  round  the  corner  and  Laura 
put  on  her  hat  with  a  heavy  heart  and  went  into  the 
hostile  house,  which  she  had  never  yet  entered.  Dor- 
chen,  who  was  not  in  the  secret,  looked  astonished  at 
the  visit,  but  with  quick  intuition  connected  it  with 
the  return  of  the  Doctor  and  announced,  of  her  own 
accord,  that  neither  of  the  gentlemen  were  at  home, 
but  that  Mrs.  Hahn  was  in  the  garden. 

Mrs.  Hahn  was  sitting  in  the  Chinese  temple. 
Both  women  stood  opposite  each  other  with  a  feeling 
of  embarrassment ;  both  thought  at  the  same  time  of 
their  last  conversation  and  to  both  the  recollection 
was  painful.  But  with  Mrs.  Hahn  the  danger  to  which 
Laura  had  been  exposed  at  once  overcame  this  natural 
nervousness.  "Ah,  you  poor  young  lady  !  "  she  be- 
gan, but  while  overflowing  with  compassion,  with  del- 
icate tact  she  drew  away  from  the  Chinese  building, 
feeling  that  it  was  not  an  appropriate  place  for  this 


SPITEHAHN.  225 

visit  and  invited  her  to  sit  on  a  little  bench  in  front  of 
the  white  Muse.  This  was  the  pleasantest  spot  about 
the  house  ;  here  the  orange  tree  smiled  upon  its  donor, 
and  Laura  could  bring  herself  into  a  grateful  mood. 
She  told  her  neighbor  how  deeply  she  felt  indebted  to 
the  Doctor,  and  she  begged  her  to  say  this  to  her  son, 
because  she  herself  in  the  confusion  had  not  properly 
fulfilled  this  duty.  She  then  entered  into  the  neces- 
sary business  about  the  bad  shepherd.  Good  Mrs. 
Hahn  was  pleased  with  her  thanks  and  in  a  motherly 
way  begged  Laura  to  take  off  her  hat  for  a  little  while, 
as  it  was  warm  in  the  garden.  But  Laura  did  not 
take  off  her  hat.  She  expressed  in  fitting  terms  her 
pleasure  in  the  garden,  said  how  beautifully  it  bloomed, 
and  heard  with  satisfaction  of  the  splendid  orange  tree 
which  had  been  sent  anonymously  to  Mr.  Hahn,  the 
fruit  of  which  was  sweet,  for  Mr.'Hahn  had  celebrated 
the  return  of  his  son  by  an  artistic  drink,  for  which 
he  had  taken  the  first  fruit  of  the  little  tree. 

It  was  altogether  a  diplomatic  visit,  not  extended 
unnecessarily ;  and  Laura  was  glad  when,  on  depart- 
ing, she.had  repeated  her  compliments  and  thanks  to 
the  Doctor. 

In  Laura's  secret  record,  also,  the  events  of  this 
day  were  very  shortly  disposed  of.  Even  an  obser- 
vation she  had  begun  on  the  happiness  of  the  lonely 
dwellers  in  the  wood  remained  unfinished.  How  was 
it,  Laura  ? — you,  who  write  down  everything  ;  who, 
when  an  insect  or  a  sparrow  hops  in  at  the  window, 
burst  forth  into  verse  !  Here  was  an  event  influencing 
your  whole  life — danger,  unconsciousness  in  the  arms 
of  a  stranger,  who,  in  spite  of  his  learned  aspect,  is  a 
handsome  youth  !  This  would  be  the  time  to  depict 
and  indulge  in  fancy  dreams.  Capricious  girl,  why 


226  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

does  this  adventure  lie  like  a  dead  stone  in  the  fan- 
tastic landscape  that  surrounds  thee  ?  Is  it  with  thee 
as  with  the  traveler,  who,  weary  of  the  Alpine  scenery, 
looks  below  him  and  wonders  that  this  marvelous  na- 
ture so  little  impresses  him,  till  gradually,  but  perhaps 
not  for  years,  the  scenes  pursue  him,  waking  or  dream- 
ing, and  draw  him  anew  to  the  mountains  ?  Or  has 
the  nearness  of  the  wicked  animal  who  occasioned  the 
outrage  impeded  the  flight  of  your  soaring  wings? 
There  he  lies  before  your  threshold,  red  and  ragged, 
licking  his  lips. 

CHAPTER  XII. 

THE    DEPARTURE    FROM    THE    ESTATE. 

AUTUMN  had  come.  The  trees  about  the  house  had 
assumed  their  colored  dress  of  decay.  White  webs 
hung  over  the  stubble,  and  the  dew  drops  lay  upon 
them  till  the  wind  tore  the  woven  fabrics  away  and 
bore  them  from  field  and  valley  into  the  blue  distance. 
A  happy  pair  went  hand  in  hand  about  the  place. 
This  year  the  fall  of  the  leaf  did  not  affect  the  Pro- 
fessor, for  a  new  spring  had  begun  in  his  life ;  and  his 
happiness  was  written  in  his  countenance  in  characters 
which  might  be  read  by  the  most  unlearned. 

Use  was  betrothed.  Modestly  she  bore  the  invis- 
ible crown  which,  according  to  the  opinion  of  the 
household  and  neighborhood,  now  encircled  her  head. 
There  were  still  hours  in  which  she  could  scarcely  be- 
lieve in  her  happiness.  When  she  rose  early  from  her 
bed,  and  heard  the  trailing  of  the  plough,  or  when  she 
stood  in  the  dairy  amidst  the  clattering  of  the  milk 
pails,  her  future  appeared  like  a  dream.  But  in  the 
evening,  when  she  was  sitting  near  her  beloved  one, 


THE    DEPARTURE    FROM    THE    ESTATE.  227 

listening  to  his  words  and  conversing  on  subjects 
serious  and  trifling,  she  would  lay  her  hand  gently  on 
his  arm  in  order  to  assure  herself  that  he  belonged  to 
her,  and  that  she  was  thenceforth  to  enter  into  the 
life  in  which  his  spirit  moved. 

The  marriage  was  to  take  place  before  the  winter, 
and  before  the  lectures  began  at  the  University.  For 
the  Professor  had  petitioned  against  a  long  engage- 
ment and  the  father  had  yielded. 

"  I  would  gladly  have  kept  Use  with  me  over  the 
winter.  Clara  must  assume  a  portion  of  her  duties, 
and  the  guidance  of  her  sister  would  have  been  a  great 
help  to  her.  But  it  is  better  for  you  that  it  should  be 
otherwise.  You,  my  son,  have  sought  the  hand  of  my 
daughter  after  a  short  acquaintance,  and  the  sooner 
Use  accustoms  herself  to  the  life  of  the  city,  the  better 
it  will  be  for  you  both  ;  and  I  think  it  would  be  easier 
for  her  in  the  winter." 

It  was  a  time  of  happy  excitement,  and  the  neces- 
sity of  providing  for  the  new  household  brought  down 
the  feelings  of  the  betrothed  from  their  state  of  exal- 
tation to  earthly  things. 

The  Professor  made  a  journey  to  the  University. 
He  went  first  to  his  friend. 

"Wish  me  joy,"  he  exclaimed  ;  "have  confidence 
in  her  and  me." 

The  Doctor  embraced  him  and  never  left  his  side 
during  his  stay.  He  accompanied  him  in  all  his  shop- 
ping expeditions  and  assisted  him  in  the  arrangement 
of  the  rooms.  Gabriel,  who,  from  the  visit  of  the 
country  gentleman,  had  anticipated  coming  events, 
and  who  had  become  doubtful  of  his  own  indispensa- 
bility,  felt  proud  when  the  Professor  said  to  him  : 

"Between  you  and  me  things  are  to  remain  as  they 


228  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

were.     Do  your  best  to  make  yourself  useful  to  my 
wife. " 

Then  came  Mr.  Hummel.  In  the  name  of  the 
family  he  extended  his  congratulations,  and  of  his  own 
accord  offered  the  use  of  two  rooms  in  his  house  which 
he  himself  did  not  occupy.  But  Laura  was  more 
anxious  than  all  the  rest  about  the  new  inmate.  She 
burst  forth  in  verse  thus  : 

"  How  will  she  be,  of  sweet  or  lofty  mien  ? 
Proud,  dignified,  or  charmingly  serene  ? 
My  heart  beats  fast  and  thoughts  in  chaos  seem  t 
Will  fond  anticipations  prove  a  dream  ?" 

When  the  Professor  begged  of  her  and  her  mother 
to  receive  his  future  wife  with  friendliness  and  help 
her  in  her  arrangements,  and  when  he  added  to  Laura 
that  he  hoped  she  would  be  on  a  friendly  footing  with 
his  bride,  he  did  not  guess  how  much  happiness  he 
had  given  that  young  heart,  which  felt  an  unquiet 
longing  to  attach  itself  devotedly  to  some  one.  The 
indefinite  descriptions  which  he  gave  concerning  the 
character  of  his  intended  made  a  very  vague  impression 
which  to  Laura  became  a  frame  in  which  she  daily 
depicted  new  faces. 

Meanwhile  the  women  were  occupied  in  the  old 
house  preparing  Use's  outfit.  The  approaching  mar- 
riage of  her  sister  had  transformed  Clara  into  a  young 
lady ;  she  helped  and  gave  good  advice,  and  in  every- 
thing showed  herself  clever  and  practical.  Use  spoke 
of  this  in  terms  of  praise  one  evening  to  her  father 
and  then  threw  her  arms  around  his  neck  and  burst 
into  tears.  The  father's  mouth  quivered  ;  he  did  not 
answer,  but  he  held  his  daughter  close  to  his  heart. 
It  fortunately  happened  that  the  last  weeks  before 
their  separation  were  full  of  work  and  distraction. 
There  was  yet  much  to  be  done  in  the  household  and 


THE    DEPARTURE    FROM    THE    ESTATE.  229 

the  father  would  not  permit  the  betrothed  couple  to 
omit  a  single  visit  to  his  acquaintances  in  the  neigh- 
borhood. 

One  of  the  first  was  to  the  family  of  Rollmaur. 
Use  in  a  special  letter  had  informed  Mrs.  Rollmaus  of 
her  betrothal ;  and  this  had  created  great  excitement. 
Mrs.  Rollmaus  burst  forth  into  a  stream  of  triumph ; 
but  Mr.  Rollmaus  saddled  his  horse  and  rode  to  Biel- 
stein,  but  not  to  the  house.  He  inquired  for  the  Pro- 
prietor at  the  gate  of  the  court-yard  and  rode  to  meet 
him  in  the  field.  There  he  took  him  aside  and  began 
his  congratulations  with  this  short  question  : 

"What  is  he  worth?" 

The  question  was  answered  numerically,  and  he 
seemed  satisfied.  For  he  turned  his  horse  round, 
trotted  up  to  the  house  and  extended  his  congratula- 
tions to  Use  and  her  betrothed,  whom  he  now  looked 
upon  as  her  equal,  and  this  time  he  pressingly  re- 
peated his  invitation  to  call.  After  his  return,  he  said 
to  his  wife  : 

"  I  could  have  wished  a  better  match  for  Use,  but 
the  man  is  not  so  bad  after  all." 

"Rollmaus,"  replied  the  wife,  "  I  hope  you  will 
behave  properly  on  this  occasion." 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?"  asked  the  Crown  Inspector. 

"You  must  propose  the  health  of  the  betrothed 
couple  at  dinner,  when  they  come." 

The  husband  muttered  a  suppressed  growl.  "But 
I'll  have  none  of  your  oratorical  trash  and  sentiment ;  I 
will  have  nothing  to  do  with  that." 

"  The  eloquence  must  be  in  the  introduction, "  said 
Mrs.  Rollmaus ;  "  and  if  you  will  not  do  it,  I  will  under- 
take it  myself.  You  may  merely  propose  the  health." 

The  house  of  Rollmaus  displayed  its  finest  table 


230  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

linen  and  dinner  service  for  the  visit,  and  Mrs.  Roll- 
maus  showed  not  only  a  good  heart  but  good  cooking. 
After  the  first  course  she  clinked  her  glass  and  began 
excitedly : 

"  Dear  Use,  as  Mr.  Rollmaus  in  proposing  your 
health  will  express  himself  shortly  and  laconically,  I 
take  the  occasion  to  mention  beforehand  that  as  old 
friends  of  your  parents,  we  wish  you  joy  from  the  bot- 
tom of  our  hearts.  And  as  we  have  lived  together  as 
good  neighbors,  sympathizing  both  in  misfortune  and 
when  there  was  an  agreeable  addition  to  the  family, 
and  as  we  have  often  rendered  each  other  mutual  as- 
sistance in  household  matters,  it  is  very  sad  for  us  to 
think  that  you  are  going  to  leave  our  country.  Yet 
we  rejoice  that  you  are  going  to  a  city  where  intellect 
and  higher  aims  are  appreciated.  I  will  not  be  vo- 
luminous, therefore  I  beg  of  you  both  to  remember  us 
with  true  friendship." 

She  put  her  handkerchief  to  her  eyes  and  Mr. 
Rollmaus  expressed  the  family  feeling  generally,  in 
four  words  : 

"  Health  to  the  couple." 

At  departing  Mrs.  Rollmaus  wept  a  little  and 
begged  the  Proprietor  to  permit  them  to  be  at  the 
marriage,  though  no  other  guests  were  to  be  present. 

There  was  to  be  still  another  distraction.  The 
Sovereign  wished  to  stop  on  the  way  to  his  hunting 
castle  and  take  breakfast  in  the  old  house. 

"It  is  well,  Use,  that  you  are  with  us,"   said  her 
father. 

"  But  one  does  not  know  at  all  what  such  a  person 
is  accustomed  to, "rejoined  Use,  between  pleasure  and 
anxiety. 

"His  own  cook  will  come  over  from  the  Forester's 


THE    DEPARTURE    FROM    THE    ESTATE.  23! 

house  ;  he  will  help.     Only  see  to  it  that  he  finds  some- 
thing in  the  kitchen." 

It  was  a  day  of  busy  preparation,  and  the  children, 
the  housekeeper  and  the  workwomen  sat  among  heaps 
of  branches  and  autumn  flowers,  twining  wreaths  and 
garlands. 

"Spare  nothing,"  said  Use  to  the  old  gardener;  "he 
is  the  beloved  father  of  our  country.  We,  his  children, 
bring  him  our  flowers  as  a  tribute." 

Hans,  with  the  help  of  the  Professor,  arranged  im- 
mense emblems  and  monograms  of  dahlias. 

The  evening  before  the  hunt  the  purveyor  and  cook, 
with  their  attendants,  arrived.  The  purveyor  begged 
leave  to  set  the  table  in  the  garden.  "  The  Sovereign 
will  be  accompanied  by  the  necessary  servants ;  the 
rest  of  the  waiting  may  be  done  by  the  waiting-maids 
of  the  .house.  Country  customs  please  his  Highness." 

On  the  morning  of  the  chase  the  Proprietor  rode  in 
his  best  clothes  to  Rossau  to  receive  the  Sovereign, 
and  the  children  thronged  round  the  windows  of  the 
upper  story,  spying  along  the  highway  like  bandits. 
Shortly  before  midday  the  carriage  came  up  the  hill 
and  stopped  at  the  door  of  the  house.  The  Proprie- 
tor and  Forester,  who  were  riding  on  each  side  of  the 
royal  carriage,  dismounted.  The  Sovereign  descended 
with  his  suite,  greeting  them  as  he  crossed  the  thresh- 
old. He  was  of  advanced  age  and  middle  height ; 
had  a  small  delicate  face,  from  which  could  be  seen 
that  in  youth  he  had  been  considered  a  handsome 
man,  with  two  intelligent  eyes,  beneath  which  were 
many  small  wrinkles.  Use  entered  the  hall  and  the 
Proprietor  introduced  his  daughter  in  his  simple  way. 
The  Sovereign  greeted  Use  graciously  with  a  few  sen- 
tences and  favored  the  Professor,  who  was  presented 


232  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

to  him  as  bridegroom  of  fhe  daughter,  with  some 
attention ;  whereupon  the  Professor  was  invited  by 
the  master  of  the  hounds  to  join  the  party  at  break- 
fast. The  Sovereign  stepped  into  the  garden  directly, 
praised  the  house  and  the  landscape  and  recollected 
having  been  here  with  his  father  as  a  boy  of  fourteen. 

Breakfast  passed  off  admirably.  The  Sovereign 
asked  questions  of  the  Proprietor,  that  evinced  a  great 
interest  in  the  condition  of  the  country.  When  they 
arose  from  the  table,  he  approached  the  Professor, 
asked  various  particular  questions  about  the  Univer- 
sity, and  knew  the  names  of  several  of  his  colleagues. 
The  answers  and  general  demeanor  of  the  Scholar  in- 
duced him  to  prolong  the  conversation.  He  told  him 
that  he  himself  was  somewhat  of  a  collector.  He  had 
brought  ancient  coins  and  other  antiques  from  Italy 
and  any  increase  in  his  collection  gave  hin\  much 
pleasure.  And  he  was  pleased  to  find  that  the  Pro- 
fessor was  already  acquainted  with  several  of  the  more 
important  ones. 

When  the  Sovereign,  in  conclusion,  asked  the 
Professor,  whether  he  belonged  to  this  country,  Felix 
answered  that  accident  had  brought  him  there.  It 
suddenly  occurred  to  him  that  this  was  an  opportunity, 
which  might  never  recur,  of  making  known  to  the 
highest  power  in  the  country  the  fate  of  the  lost  manu- 
script, and  thereby,  perhaps,  gaining  an  order  for 
further  research  in  the  residence.  He  began  his  ac- 
count. The  Sovereign  listened  with  evident  excite- 
ment. While  cross-questioning  him  about  it,  he  drew 
him  further  from  the  company  and  seemed  so  entirely 
engrossed  in  the  affair  as  to  forget  the  hunting.  The 
master  of  the  hounds,  at  least,  looked  at  his  watch 
often  and  spoke  to  the  Proprietor  of  the  interest,  which 


THE  DEPARTURE  FROM  THE  ESTATE.        233 

the  Sovereign  seemed  to  take  in  his  son-in-law.  At 
last  his  Highness  closed  the  conversation : — 

"I  thank  you  for  your  communication.  I  value 
the  confidence  which  you  have  shown  me.  If  I  can 
be  of  any  use  to  you  in  this  matter  apply  directly  to 
me  ;  and  should  you  happen  to  come  into  my  neigh- 
borhood, let  me  know.  It  would  give  me  pleasure  to 
see  you  again." 

When  the  Sovereign  passed  through  the  hall  to  the 
carriage  he  stopped  and  looked  round.  The  master 
of  the  hounds  gave  the  Proprietor  a  hint.  Use  was 
called  and  again  made  her  obeisance,  and  the  Sove- 
reign in  a  few  words  thanked  her  for  her  hospitable  re- 
ception. Before  the  carriage  had  disappeared  from 
the  farm-buildings  the  Sovereign  again  looked  back  to 
the  house,  and  this  civility  was  fully  appreciated. 

"  He  turned  quite  round,"  said  one  of  the  laborer's 
wives,  who  had  placed  herself  with  the  working  people 
near  the  evergreen  arch  by  the  barns. 

All  were  contented  and  rejoiced  in  the  gracious- 
ness  and  civility  which  had  been  given  and  received 
in  good  part.  Use  praised  the  Sovereign's  attendants,- 
who  had  made  everything  so  easy  ;  and  the  judicious 
questions  of  the  ruler  had  pleased  the  Professor  much. 
When  the  Proprietor  returned  in  the  evening,  he  re- 
lated how  well  the  chase  had  gone  off,  and  that  the 
Sovereign  had  spoken  most  kindly  to  him  and  had 
wished  him  joy  of  his  son-in-law  before  everybody. 

The  last  day  that  the  maiden  was  to  pass  in  her 
father's  house  came.  She  went  with  her  sister  Clara 
down  to  the  village,  stood  by  the  window  of  the  poor 
Lazarus,  stopped  at  every  house  and  committed  the 
poor  and  sick  to  the  care  of  her  sister.  Then  she  sat 
a  long  time  with  the  Pastor  in  his  study.  The  old 


234  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

man  held  his  dear  child  by  the  hand  and  would  not 
let  her  go.  On  departing,  he  gave  her  the  old  Bible 
which  his  wife  had  used. 

"I  meant  to  take  it  with  me  to  my  last  abode,"  he 
said,  "but  it  will  be  better  preserved  in  your  hands." 

When  Use  returned  she  seated  herself  in  her  room 
and  the  maids  and  workwomen  of  the  house  entered 
one  after  another.  She  took  leave  of  each  of  them 
separately  and  spoke  to  them  once  more  of  what  each 
had  most  at  heart,  gave  comfort  and  good  advice,  and 
a  small  keepsake  from  her  little  store.  In  the  evening 
she  sat  between  her  father  and  lover.  The  tutor  had 
taught  the  children  some  verses  ;  Clara  brought  the 
bridal  wreath,  and  the  little  brother  appeared  as  a 
guardian  angel ;  but  when  he  began  his  speech  he 
burst  out  sobbing,  concealed  his  head  in  Use's  lap  and 
would  not  be  comforted. 

When  at  bed-time  they  had  all  left,  Use  for  the  last 
time  sat  in  her  chair  in  the  sitting  room.  When  her 
father  prepared  to  retire,  she  handed  him  a  candle. 
The  father  put  it  down  and  paced  up  and  down  with- 
out speaking.  At  last  he  began  : 

"  Your  room,  Use,  shall  remain  unchanged.  Should 
you  return  to  us  you  shall  find  it  as  you  left  it.  No 
one  can  replace  you  here.  No  one  can  be  what  you 
have  been  to  your  brothers,  sisters,  and  to  your  father. 
I  give  you  up  with  sorrow  to  enter  upon  a  life  which 
is  unknown  to  us  both.  Good  night,  my  beloved 
child.  Heaven's  blessing  upon  you.  God  guard  your 
noble  heart.  Be  brave,  Use,  for  life  is  full  of  trials." 

He  drew  her  to  him  and  she  wept  quietly  on  his 
breast. 

The  following  day  the  morning  sun  shone  through 
the  windows  of  the  old  wooden  church  upon  the  place 


THE    FIRST    GREETINGS    OF    THE    CITY.  235 

before  the  altar.  Again  Use's  head  was  surrounded 
by  a  heavenly  radiance  and  the  countenance  of  the 
man  into  whose  hand  the  old  pastor  laid  that  of  his 
favorite  beamed  with  happiness.  The  children  of  the 
house  and  the  workwomen  of  the  farm  strewed  flowers. 
Use,  with  her  wreath  and  veil,  stepped  over  the  last 
flowers  of  the  garden,  looking  heavenward.  From  the 
arms  of  her  father  and  sisters,  amid  the  loudly  ex- 
pressed blessings  of  Mrs.  Rollmaus  and  the  gently- 
murmured  prayer  of  the  old  Pastor,  her  husband 
helped  her  into  the  carriage.  Another  hurrah  from 
the  people,  one  more  glance  at  the  old  home,  and  Use 
pressed  the  hand  of  her  husband  and  clung  closely  to 
him. 

CHAPTER  XIIL 
THE  FIRST"  GREETINGS  OF  THE  CITY. 

THE  leaves  were  falling  in  the  woods  around  the 
city.  Use  stood  at  the  window  thinking  of  her  home. 
The  wreaths  over  the  door  were  faded,  the  linen  and 
clothes  were  stowed  away  in  the  presses,  her  own  life 
glided  on  so  quietly,  while  all  around  her  was  noise 
and  bustle.  Her  husband  was  sitting  in  the  next  room 
over  his  work  ;  no  sound  but  the  rustling  of  the  leaves 
as  he  turned  them  penetrated  through  the  door  and  at 
times  the  clattering  of  plates  in  the  kitchen  which  was 
close  by.  Her  dwelling  was  very  pretty,  but  hedged 
in  on  all  sides  ;  at  one  side  the  narrow  street ;  behind 
was  the  neighboring  house,  with  many  windows  for 
curious  eyes ;  toward  the  wood,  also,  the  horizon  was 
shut  in  by  grey  trunks  and  towering  branches.  From 
the  distance,  the  hum  and  cries  of  the  busy  town 
sounded  in  her  ear  from  morning  till  night ;  above  were 


236  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

to  be  heard  the  tones  of  a  pianoforte,  and  on  the  pave- 
ment the  unceasing  tread  of  the  passers-by,  wagons 
rolling  and  loud  voices  quarreling.  However  long  she 
looked  out  of  the  window,  there  were  always  new 
people  and  unknown  faces,  many  beautiful  equipages 
and,  on  the  other  hand,  many  poor  people.  Use 
thought  that  every  passer-by  who  wore  fashionable  at- 
tire must  be  a  person  of  distinction,  and  when  she  saw 
a  shabby  dress  she  thought  how  heavily  life  pressed 
upon  the  poor  here.  But  all  were  strangers  to  her  ; 
even  those  who  dwelt  near,  and  could  watch  her  pro- 
ceedings on  all  sides,  had  little  intercourse  with  her, 
and  if  she  inquired  concerning  individuals,  the  in- 
mates of  her  house  could  give  but  scanty  account  of 
them.  All  was  strange  and  cold  and  all  was  an  end- 
less tumult.  Use  felt  in  her  dwelling  as  if  she  were 
on  a  small  island  in  a  stormy  sea,  g^nd  the  strange  life 
caused  her  much  anxiety. 

But,  however  gigantic  and  noisy  the  town  seemed 
to  Use,  it  was  at  bottom  a  friendly  monster.  Nay,  it 
fostered  perhaps,  rather  than  otherwise,  a  secret  in- 
clination to  poetic  feelings  and  to  private  courtesy.  It 
was  true  that  the  stern  burgomasters  had  given  up  the 
custom  of  welcoming  distinguished  strangers  with  wine 
and  fish,  but  still  they  sent  their  first  morning  greet- 
ing through  their  winged  proteges,  which  had  already 
delighted  Use's  father.  The  pigeons  flew  round  Use's 
window,  crowded  against  the  panes  and  picked  at  the 
wood  till  Use  strewed  some  food  for  them.  When 
Gabriel  removed  the  breakfast,  he  could  not  refrain 
from  taking  some  credit  for  this  to  himself  : 

"  I  have  for  some  weeks  past  scattered  food  before 
the  window,  thinking  it  would  be  agreeable  to  you  to 
see  the  pigeons." 


THE    FIRST    GREETINGS    OF    THE    CITY.  237 

And  when  Use  looked  at  him  gratefully,  he  con- 
tinued ingenuously  : 

"For  I  also  came  from  the  country,  and  when  I 
first  went  to  the  barracks  I  shared  my  rations  with  a 
strange  poodle." 

But  the  town  took  care  that  other  birds  should  be- 
come intimate  with  the  lady  from  the  country.  On 
the  very  first  day  that  Use  went  out  alone  (it  was  an 
unpleasant  walk,  for  she  could  scarcely  resist  stopping 
before  the  showy  shop-windows,  and  she  colored  when 
people  looked  boldly  in  her  face),  she  had  found  some 
poor  children  in  front  of  a  confectioner's,  who  looked 
longingly  through  the  windows  at  the  pastry ;  this 
longing  look  had  touched  her  and  she  entered  and  dis- 
tributed cakes  among  them.  Since  then,  it  happened 
that  every  noon  there  was  a  slight  ringing  at  Use's 
door,  and  little  children,  in  tattered  clothes,  produced 
empty  cans,  which  were  filled  and  carried  home,  to 
the  great  vexation  of  Mr.  Hummel,  who  could  not  ap- 
prove of  such  encouragement  to  rogues. 

When  Use,  on  the  evening  of  her  arrival;  was  taken 
by  her  husband  into  her  room,  she  found  a  beautiful 
cover  spread  over  her  table,  a  masterpiece  of  fancy- 
work,  and  on  it  a  card,  with  the  word  WELCOME. 
Gabriel  stated  that  Miss  Laura  had  brought  this  pres- 
ent. The  first  visit,  therefore,  on  the  following  morn- 
ing was  made  to  those  who  occupied  the  lower  story. 
When  Use  entered  the  sitting-room  of  the  Hummel 
family,  Laura  sprang  up  blushing,  and  stood  embar- 
rassed before  the  Professor's  wife  ;  her  whole  soul 
went  out  to  the  stranger,  but  there  was  something  in 
Use's  demeanor  that  inspired  her  with  awe.  Ah  !  the 
much  longed-for  one  was  undoubtedly  noble  and  dig- 
nified, even  more  so  than  Laura  had  expected  ;  and  she 


238  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

felt  herself  so  very  insignificant  and  awkward  that  she 
shyly  received  Use's  warm  thanks  and  drew  back  some 
steps,  leaving  it  to  her  mother  to  do  the  talking.  But 
she  did  not  weary  of  gazing  at  the  beautiful  woman 
and,  in  imagination,  adorning  her  figure  with  the  finest 
costumes  of  the  tragic  stage. 

Laura  declared  to  her  mother  that  she  would  like 
to  make  the  return  visit  alone,  and  on  the  first  suitable 
day  stole  upstairs  in  the  twilight  hour  with  beating 
heart, — yet  determined  to  have  a  good  talk.  But,  as 
accident  would  have  it,  immediately  after  her  arrival 
the  Doctor  entered,  much  to  the  disturbance  of  the 
general  peace,  and  consequently  there  was  nothing 
but  a  fragmentary  conversation,  and  hackneyed  com- 
monplaces which  were  very  unsatisfactory.  She  took 
leave,  angry  with  the  Doctor  and  dissatisfied  with  her- 
self because  she  had  found  nothing  better  to  say. 

Since  then  the  new  lodger  upstairs  became  an  object 
of  incessant  and  secret  adoration  to  Laura.  After  din- 
ner she  placed  herself  at  the  window,  watching  for  the 
hour  when  Use  went  out  with  her  husband.  Then  she 
watched  her  from  behind  the  curtains  with  admiration. 
She  would  often  flit  across  the  hallway  and  about  the 
door  of  the  lodgers.  But  when  Use  appeared  in  the 
distance  she  would  hide,  or  if  she  met  her  she  would 
make  a  deep  courtesy  and,  on  the  spur  of  the  moment, 
could  only  think  of  ordinary  things  to  say.  She  was 
much  troubled  lest  her  pianoforte  playing  might  dis- 
turb her,  and  inquired  at  what  hours  it  would  be  least 
annoying  to  her ;  and,  one  day  when  that  nuisance  of 
a  red  dog  had  snarled  at  Use  and  had  maliciously  bit- 
ten at  her  dress,  she  was  so  angry  that  she  took  her 
parasol  and  drove  the  monster  downstairs. 

In  her  mother's  name — for  she  could  not  venture 


THE  FIRST  GREETINGS  OF  THE  CITY.  239 

upon  it  in  her  own — she  began  a  campaign  of  small 
attentions  against  the  tenants  of  the  upper  floor.  When 
venders  offered  their  tempting  wares  for  the  kitchen, 
Laura  would  frequently  disappoint  Mr.  Hummel's  epi- 
curean tastes ;  for  she  regularly  sent  the  young  geese 
and  fat  hens  upstairs,  till  at  last  the  servant,  Susan, 
became  so  bitter  at  this  preference  of  the  lodgers  that 
she  besought  the  aid  of  Mrs.  Hummel.  One  day 
Laura  learnt  from  Gabriel  that  the  Professor's  wife 
had  asked  for  a  certain  kind  of  apple  ;  Laura  hastened 
to  the  market  and  searched  till  she  found  a  little  bas- 
ket of  them  and  brought  them  home  ;  and  this  time 
she  compelled  even  Mr.  Hummel  himself  to  send  up 
the  basket  with  many  compliments.  Use  was  pleased 
with  these  household  courtesies,  but  did  not  guess 
the  secret  source. 

"  There  is  one  class  of  people  of  whom  I  am  much 
afraid,"  said  Use  to  her  husband ;  "and  that  is  the 
students.  When  I  was  scarcely  grown  up  and  on  a 
visit  to  an  aunt,  I  saw  a  whole  company  of  them  march 
through  the  gates  with  their  great  swords,  hats  with 
plumes,  and  velvet  coats.  They  were  so  wild  that  I 
did  not  venture  into  the  streets  all  that  day.  As  I  am 
now  to  associate  with  these  fierce  fellows,  I  shall  not 
exactly  be  afraid  of  them,  but  still  they  make  me  un- 
easy." 

"They  are  not  at  all  so  bad,"  said  the  Professor, 
consolingly  ;  "  you  will  soon  get  accustomed  to  them." 

Notwithstanding  this,  Use  awaited  the  first  visit  of 
the  students  with  much  anxiety. 

It  happened  that  one  morning  the  bell  rang  just 
when  the  Professor  was  detained  at  the  University 
library,  and  Gabriel  and  the  maid  had  been  sent  out. 
Use  opened  the  door  herself.  A  young  man  whose 


240  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

colored  cap  and  black  map  under  his  arm  proclaimed 
him  a  student,  started  back  in  surprise.  He  looked 
quite  different  from  what  she  expected,  being  without 
ostrich  feather  or  sword,  and  his  face  was  pale  and 
thin  ;  yet  Use  felt  respect  for  the  learned  young  man, 
at  the  same  time  dreading  that  the  rude  nature  of  his 
class  might  suddenly  break  out.  She  was,  however, 
a  brave  woman  and  took  a  practical  view  of  the  visit. 
As  long  as  the  misfortune  has  come  I  must  be  cour- 
teous. "You  wish  to  speak  to  my  husband  ;  he  is 
not  at  home  at  present.  Will  you  have  the  kindness 
to  walk  in  ?  " 

The  student,  a  poor  philologist  who  was  a  candi- 
date for  a  scholarship,  was  thrown  into  great  alarm  at 
the  majestic  being  who  stood  before  him.  He  made 
many  bows  and  did  not  venture  to  refuse.  Use  took 
him  into  the  parlor,  motioned  him  to  an  arm-chair 
and  asked  whether  she  could  be  of  any  service  to  him. 
The  poor  fellow  became  still  more  embarrassed  and 
Use  was  also  infected  by  his  discomfiture.  She  made 
an  effort,  however,  to  begin  a  conversation,  and  in- 
quired whether  he  belonged  to  the  city.  This  was 
not  the  case.  From  what  country  did  he  come  ?  she 
also  was  a  stranger.  He  proved  to  be  from  her  own 
province — not  indeed  close  to  her  home,  but  within 
ten  miles  of  it ;  he  had,  therefore,  from  his  earliest 
youth  looked  on  the  same  mountains  and  knew  the 
dialect  of  her  country  and  the  songs  of  the  birds.  Now 
she  moved  nearer  to  him  and  made  him  converse,  till 
at  last  they  chatted  together  like  old  friends.  At  length 
Use  said:  "  My  husband  will  probably  not  be  home 
for  some  time  ;  I  should  not  like  to  deprive  him  of 
the  pleasure  of  seeing  you.  May  we  have  the  pleas- 
ure of  your  company  at  dinner  next  Sunday  ? 


THE    FIRST    GREETINGS    OF    THE    CITY.  241 

Surprised  and  with  expressions  of  thanks  the  stu- 
dent arose  to  take  leave  and  was  accompanied  to  the 
door  by  Use.  But  he  had  been  so  confused  by  the 
adventure  that  he  had  forgotten  his  portfolio.  Again 
he  rang  the  bell  diffidently.  Again  he  stood  embar- 
rassed at  the  door  and  with  many  excuses  asked  for 
his  portfolio. 

Use  was  pleased  with  this  meeting  and  with  hav- 
ing so  well  overcome  her  first  difficulty.  She  called 
out  joyfully  to  her  husband  when  he  came  to  the  door, 
"  Felix,  the  first  student  has  been  here." 

"  Indeed,"  answered  the  husband,  in  no  wise  dis- 
turbed by  the  announcement ;  "what  is  his  name?" 

"  I  do  not  know  his  name,  but  he  wore  a  red  cap 
and  said  he  was  not  a  freshman.  I  was  not  at  all 
afraid  and  I  asked  him  to  dinner  for  Sunday." 

"  Well,"  replied  the  Professor,  "  if  you  do  that  to 
everyone  our  house  will  soon  be  full." 

"Was  it  not  right  ?  "  asked  Use,  troubled.  "  I  saw 
that  he  was  not  one  of  the  principal  ones,  but  I  wished, 
on  your  account,  to  do  too  much  rather  than  too 
little." 

"Never  mind,"  said  the  Professor;  "we  will  not 
forget  that  he  was  the  first  one  to  look  into  your  dear 
face." 

Sunday  came,  and  with  it,  at  the  hour  of  noon,  the 
student,  who  had  on  this  occasion  paid  exceptional 
attention  to  his  toilet.  But  Use,  observing  the  de- 
meanor of  her  husband  toward  the  student,  maintained 
a  quiet,  motherly  dignity.  In  accordance  with  this 
she  gave  him  a  second  helping  of  the  roast  and  pro- 
vided him  with  quantities  of  vegetables.  This  kindly 
treatment  and  several  glasses  of  wine,  the  last  of  which 
was  poured  out  by  Use,  strengthened  the  heart  of  the 


242  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

student  and  raised  him  above  the  petty  things  of 
earthly  life.  After  dinner  the  Professor  conversed 
with  the  Doctor  on  some  learned  subjects.  But  Use 
kindly  kept  up  a  conversation  with  the  young  gentle- 
man and  put  him  so  much  at  his  ease  that  he  began 
to  speak  of  his  family  affairs.  Then  the  student  be- 
came confiding  and  pathetic  and  began  some  very  sor- 
rowful disclosures.  In  the  first  place,  naturally,  that 
he  had  no  money  ;  then  he  ventured  to  add  the  pain- 
ful confession  of  a  tender  attachment  for  the  daughter 
of  a  lawyer  who  lived  in  the  same  house  with  him,  and 
whom  he  had  secretly  worshiped  for  a  whole  year  and 
expressed  it  in  poetry.  But  at  last  the  father  inter- 
posed ;  he,  with  a  tyranny  peculiar  to  magistrates,  for- 
bade the  acceptance  of  the  poems  by  his  daughter  and 
contrived  to  remove  the  student  from  the  house. 
Since  that  time  the  heart  of  the  student  had  been  an 
abyss  of  despair;  no  longer  did  any  poem — they  were 
sonnets — penetrate  to  the  secluded  beloved  one.  Nay, 
he  even  had  grounds  to  believe  that  she  too  despised 
him  ;  for  she  attended  balls,  and  only  the  previous 
evening  he  had  seen  her  with  flowers  in  her  hair 
alighting  from  her  father's  carriage  at  a  brilliantly 
lighted  house.  Sorrowfully  he  had  stood  at  the  door 
of  the  house  among  the  spectators  ;  but  she  had  glided 
past  him  smiling  and  beaming.  Now  he  wandered 
about  in  despair  and  alone,  weary  of  his  life  and  full 
of  dismal  thoughts,  concerning  which  he  gave  gloomy 
intimations.  Finally,  he  asked  Use's  permission  to 
send  her  these  poems  which  expressed  the  condition 
of  his  heart.  Use,  of  course,  consented,  with  expres- 
sions of  sincere  compassion. 

The  student  took  his  leave  and  the  next  morning 
Jlse  received  a  package  with  a  very  respectful  letter, 


THE    FIRST    GREETINGS    OF   THE    CITY.  243 

by  post,  in  which  he  excused  himself  for  not  sending 
her  all  the  poetical  pieces  which  would  place  his  mis- 
fortune in  the  right  light,  as  he  had  not  copies  of  them 
ready.  Enclosed  with  them  was  a  sonnet  to  Use  her- 
self, very  tender  and  full  of  reverence,  in  which  it  was 
clearly  the  secret  intention  of  the  student  to  make  Use 
the  mistress  of  his  dreams  in  the  place  of  his  unfaith- 
ful love. 

Use,  somewhat  embarrassed,  laid  this  enclosure  on 
the  writing-table  of  her  husband. 

"  If  I  have  done  wrong,  Felix,  tell  me." 

The  Professor  laughed. 

"  I  will  send  him  back  his  poem  myself ;  that  will 
cool  his  ardor.  You  know  now  that  it  is  dangerous 
to  receive  the  confidence  of  a  student.  The  poems, 
by  the  way,  are  poorer  than  need  be." 

"Thus  1  have  had  a  lesson,"  said  Use,  "which  I 
have  brought  upon  myself ;  for  the  future  I  will  be 
more  cautious." 

But  she  could  not  so  easily  banish  the  recollection 
of  the  student. 

Every  afternoon,  when  the  weather  was  favorable, 
Use  went  at  the  same  hour  with  her  husband  to  the 
adjacent  wood.  The  happy  couple  sought  out  lonely 
by-paths,  where  the  branches  were  more  thickly  inter- 
twined and  the  green  carpet  beneath  contrasted  gaily 
with  the  yellow  leaves.  Then  Use  thought  of  the 
trees  on  her  father's  estate ;  and  the  conversation  with 
her  husband  always  reverted  to  her  father,  brothers, 
and  sisters,  and  to  the  latest  news  she  had  had  from 
home.  In  the  meadow  which  extended  from  the  last 
buildings  of  the  town  to  the  wood  there  stood  a  bench 
under  a  large  bush  ;  from  there  could  be  seen  the 
hostile  houses  in  the  foreground  and  behind  them  the 


244  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

gables  and  towers  of  the  city.  When  Use  came  upon 
the  place  the  first  time,  she  was  pleased  at  the  sight 
of  her  own  windows  and  the  surrounding  gloomy 
towers,  and  it  led  her  to  think  of  the  seat  in  the  cave, 
from  which  she  had  so  often  looked  on  her  father's 
house  ;  she  sat  down  on  the  bench,  drew  out  the  let- 
ters which  she  had  just  received  from  her  brothers 
and  sisters,  and  read  to  her  husband  the  simple  sen- 
tences in  which  they  reported  the  latest  events  on  the 
farm.  From  that  time  forth  this  became  her  favorite 
resting-place,  as  she  and  her  husband  bent  their  steps 
homeward. 

The  day  after  the  reception  of  the  student's  pack- 
age, on  arriving  at  the  bench,  she  saw  a  small  nosegay 
lying  on  it ;  she  picked  it  up  with  curiosity ;  a  deli- 
cately folded  note  of  rose-colored  paper  was  appended 
to  it,  with  this  inscription:  "A  greeting  from  B." 
After  this  as  many  stars  as  there  were  letters  in  the 
name  of  her  father's  country-place.  Surprised,  she 
handed  the  note  to  the  Professor,  He  opened  it  and 
read  these  unpretentious  lines  : — 

The  little  dwarfes   in  their  stone-built  bower, 

Have  written  the  rhyme  on  this  card. 
They  send  from  thy  father's  home  a  flower, 

With  their  heart-felt,  innermost  regard. 

"That  is  meant  for  you,  "he  said,  in  astonishment. 

"  How  delightful !"  exclaimed  Use. 

"The  'dwarf  must  certainly  be  a  joke  of  the  Doc- 
tor," decided  the  Professor  ;  "truly,  he  has  well  dis- 
guised his  handwriting." 

Use,  delighted,  pinned  on  the  nosegay. 

"  When  the  Doctor  comes  this  evening  he  shall  not 
find  out  that  we  have  discovered  him." 

The   Professor  dilated  upon  the  droll   idea  of  his 


THE    FIRST    GREETINGS    OF    THE    CITY.  245 

friend  and  Use,  who  before  had  looked  upon  the  Doc- 
tor with  secret  distrust,  heartily  agreed. 

But  when,  in  the  evening,  the  Doctor  feigned  the 
greatest  nonchalance,  he  was  jestingly  scolded  for  his 
art  of  dissimulation  and  loaded  with  thanks.  When, 
however,  he  firmly  declared  that  the  nosegay  and 
verse  did  not  come  from  him,  fruitless  discussion  arose 
as  to  the  author,  and  the  Professor  began  to  look  very 
serious. 

A  few  days  later  the  offering  in  the  wood  was  re- 
peated ;  another  nosegay  lay  on  the  bench  with  the 
same  address  and  a  verse.  Again  did  Use  endeavor 
gently  to  maintain,  that  there  had  been  collusion  on 
the  part  of  the  Doctor,  but  the  Professor  rejected  that 
and  put  the  rose-colored  note  in  his  pocket.  Use  took 
the  nosegay  with  her,  but  this  time  did  not  place  it  in 
her  girdle.  When  the  Doctor  came  the  adventure 
was  again  discussed. 

"  It  can  be  no  one  but  the  little  student,"  said  Use, 
much  distressed. 

"That  I  fear,  also,"  said  the  Professor,  and  re- 
lated to  the  Doctor  Use's  annoyance  at  the  confiden- 
tial package  from  the  devotee  of  the  muses.  "  Harm- 
less as  the  thing  appears  in  itself,  it  still  has  a  serious 
aspect.  These  addresses  imply  close  watching,  which 
is  anything  but  agreeable,  and  such  activity  and  assi- 
duity may  lead  the  adorer  to  still  greater  daring.  He 
must  be  checked.  I  will  endeavor  to-morrow  to  con- 
vince him  of  his  error." 

"And  if  he  should  deny  the  act,"  interposed  the 
Doctor.  "You  should  at  least  make  this  impossible. 
As  the  nosegay  has  escaped  the  observation  of  others 
passing  by,  it  has  probably  been  laid  there  the  last 
moment  before  your  appearance,  which  would  not  be 


246  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

difficult  to  do,   as  you  always  pass  at  the  same  hour. 
We  must  endeavor  to  surprise  the  daring  man." 

"  I  will  go  alone  to-morrow,"  said  the  Professor. 

"You  ought  not  to  watch  a  student  in  the  wood," 
said  the  Doctor,  decidedly.  "Besides,  if  your  wife 
remains  at  home  the  nosegay  will  probably  not  lie  on 
the  bench.  Leave  the  affair  to  me.  Go  out  as  usual 
to-morrow  and  the  following  days  and  I  shall  watch 
the  place  from  some  other  point." 

This  being  settled,  the  Professor  took  both  the 
small  nosegays  from  the  glass  and  threw  them  out  of 
the  window. 

On  the  following  day,  a  quarter  of  an  hour  before  his 
friends  started,  the  Doctor  went  to  the  wood,  disguised 
in  a  grey  coat  and  dark  hat,  in  order  to  fall  upon  the 
presumptuous  versifier  from  his  hiding-place;  he  under- 
took to  chastise  the  offender  so  that  the  Professor  would 
be  spared  any  personal  interference.  He  found  a  good 
place  just  opposite  the  bench,  where  the  dense  beech 
foliage  would  conceal  the  hunter  from  his  game.  There 
he  placed  himself  in  a  good  position,  drew  a  large  opera- 
glass  from  his  pocket  and  fixed  his  eyes  attentively 
on  the  bench  in  question.  The  bench  was  still  empty; 
the  few  pedestrians  passed  it  by  with  indifference ; 
the  time  seemed  long  ;  the  Doctor  looked  for  half  an 
hour  through  the  glasses,  until  his  eyes  began  to  ache, 
but  he  persevered.  His  place  was  well  chosen  ;  the 
offender  could  not  escape.  Suddenly,  just  as  his  eyes 
accidentally  glanced  toward  Mr.  Hummel's  house,  he 
saw  the  garden  gate  open  ;  something  dark  passed  out 
between  the  trees  and  came  toward  the  bench  out  of 
the  thicket,  looked  cautiously  round,  passed  by  the 
bench  and  disappeared  again  among  the  trees  and 
through  the  hostile  garden  gate.  An  expression  of  in- 


THE    FIRST    GREETINGS    OF   THE    CITY.  247 

finite  astonishment  was  depicted  on  the  countenance 
of  the  Doctor ;  he  closed  his  opera  glass  and  laughed 
quietly  to  himself ;  then  adjusted  the  glasses  again, 
and  peered  after  the  vanished  figure.  He  shook  his 
head  and  fell  into  deep  thought.  He  listened  and 
heard  the  quiet  steps  of  two  promenaders.  The  Pro- 
fessor and  Use  came  out  of  the  wood.  They  stopped 
a  few  steps  from  the  bench  and  looked  at  the  fatal 
nosegay  which  lay  there  so  innocently.  The  Doctor 
burst  cut  from  the  copse,  laughing,  took  up  the  nose- 
gay, and,  offering  it  to  Use,  said  : 

"It  is  not  the  student." 

"Who  then?"  asked  the  Professor,  uneasily. 

"That  I  cannot  tell,"  replied  the  Doctor  ;  "but 
the  affair  is  harmless — the  nosegay  is  from  a  lady." 

"Seriously?"  asked  the  Professor. 

"You  may  depend  upon  it,"  replied  Fritz,  con- 
vincingly. "  It  is  from  some  one  whom  we  both  know 
and  your  wife  need  not  hesitate  to  accept  the  greetings. 
It  is  given  with  the  best  intentions." 

"Have  the  townspeople  so  many  verses  and  se- 
crets ?"  asked  Use,  curiously,  taking  the  flowers  with 
a  light  heart. 

Again  there  was  guessing  :  they  could  not  find  any 
one  on  whom  they  could  fix  it. 

"  I  am  glad  that  the  mystery  is  thus  solved,"  said 
the  Professor ;  "but  tell  your  poetess  that  such  missives 
might  easily  fall  into  bad  hands." 

"  I  have  no  influence  over  her, "  replied  the  Doctor ; 
"but  whatever  may  have  put  it  into  her  head  to  do 
this,  it  will  not  always  remain  a  secret." 

At  last  came  the  long-wished-for  hour  in  which 
Laura  was  to  have  a  private  meeting  with  the  dis- 
tinguished stranger,  as  Use  up  to  this  day  was  des- 


240  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

ignated  in  the  private  memoirs.  Her  mother  had  gone 
out  when  Use  entered  the  sitting-room  to  ask  a  house- 
hold question.  Laura  gave  the  information,  gained 
courage  and  at  last  ventured  to  request  Use  to  go  with 
her  into  the  garden.  There  they  sat  together  under  the 
last  rays  of  an  October  sun  and  interchanged  opinions 
concerning  the  boat,  the  Chinese  temple  and  the 
passers-by.  Finally,  Laura  respectfully  took  Use's  hand 
and  drew  her  into  a  corner  of  the  garden  to  show  her  a 
great  rarity — the  abandoned  nest  of  a  hedge-sparrow. 
The  birds  had  long  flown  away  and  the  remains  of  the 
nest  still  hung  on  the  half  bare  branches. 

"Here  they  were,"  cried  Laura,  impressively; 
"  charming  little  creatures  ;  there  were  five  speckled 
eggs  there  and  they  reared  their  little  ones  success- 
fully. I  was  in  mortal  terror  all  the  time  on  account 
of  the  cats  that  prowl  about  here." 

"You  have  never  lived  in  the  country,"  said  Use. 
People  here  in  the  city  are  delighted  if  they  can  only 
keep  one  poor  little  sparrow  in  their  garden.  At  home 
they  chirruped,  sang  and  flew  about  in  all  the  trees  ; 
and  unless  there  was  something  unusual  about  them, 
one  took  no  particular  notice  of  them.  Here  each 
little  creature  is  valued  and  cared  for,  even  the  spar- 
rows. The  first  morning  I  was  here  I  was  shocked  at 
the  sight  of  these  poor  creatures ;  they  are  not  to  be 
compared  to  their  brothers  in  the  country,  their 
feathers  are  bristly  and  uneven,  and  their  whole  bodies 
are  black  and  sooty,  like  charcoal-burners.  I  would 
gladly  have  taken  a  sponge  to  wash  the  whole  lot." 

"  It  would  be  of  no  use  ;  they  would  become  black 
again,"  said  Laura,  despondingly.  "It  is  caused  by 
the  soot  in  the  gutters." 

"Does  one  become  so  dusty  and  is  one  so  roughly 


THE    FIRST    GREETINGS    OF    THE    CITY.  249 

handled  in  the  city?  That  is  sad.  It  is  certainly 
much  more  beautiful  in  the  country."  As  Use  softly 
acknowledged  this,  her  eyes  moistened  involuntarily 
with  the  thought  of  the  distant  woody  hills.  "I  am 
only  a  stranger  here,"  she  added  more  cheerfully. 
"  The  city  would  be  very  pleasant  if  there  were  not  so 
many  people  :  they  annoy  me  with  their  staring,  when- 
ever I  go  out  alone." 

"I  will  accompany  you  if  you  like,"  said  Laura, 
delighted  j  I  shall  always  be  ready." 

This  was  a  kind  offer  and  was  thankfully  accepted. 
Laura,  in  her  great  joy,  ventured  to  ask  Use  to  go  with 
her  into  her  private  room.  They  ascended  to  the 
upper  story.  There  the  little  sofa,  the  ivy  screen,  the 
shepherd  and  shepherdess,  were  duly  admired,  and 
finally  the  new  piano. 

"Will  you  play  something  for  me  ?"  asked  Use. 
"I  cannot  play  at  all.  We  had  an  old  piano  but  I 
learnt  only  a  few  tunes  from  my  dear  mother  for  the 
children  to  dance  to." 

Laura  took  a  piece  of  music,  the  first  leaf  of  which 
was  beautifully  ornamented  with  gilded  elves  and 
lilies,  and  played  the  "  Elfin  Waltz, "  secretly  trem- 
bling, but  with  great  execution  ;  and  she  explained, 
laughingly,  with  a  shake  of  her  black  locks,  the  pas- 
sages where  the  spirits  came  fluttering  in  and  myste- 
riously chattered  together.  Use  was  highly  delighted. 
'How  quickly  your  little  fingers  fly,"  she  said,  re- 
garding Laura's  delicate  hand  with  admiration.  "See 
how  large  my  hand  is  in  comparison  and  how  hard  the 
skin — that  comes  from  doing  housework." 

Laura  looked  entreatingly  at  her.  "  If  I  might 
only  hear  you  sing." 


250  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

"I  can  sing  nothing  but  hymns  and  some  old 
country  songs." 

"Oh,  do  sing  them,"  begged  Laura.  "I  will  en- 
deavor to  accompany  you." 

Use  began  an  old  melody  and  Laura  tried  a  modest 
accompaniment  and  listened  with  transport  to  the  rich 
sound  of  Use's  voice ;  she  felt  her  heart  tremble  under 
the  swelling  tones  and  ventured  to  join  in  the  last 
verse. 

After  this  she  searched  for  a  song  which  was  known 
to  both,  and,  when  they  succeeded  tolerably  in  sing- 
ing together,  Laura  clapped  her  hands  enthusiastically, 
and  they  determined  to  practice  some  easy  songs  to 
surprise  the  Professor. 

In  the  course  of  conversation  Use  confessed  that 
she  had  seldom  heard  a  concert,  and  occasionally 
when  visiting  in  the  neighborhood,  had  seen  a  play, 
but  only  one  opera. 

"The  piece  was  called  the  Freischiitz,"  said  Use  ; 
"the  heroine  was  the  forester's  daughter,  and  she  had 
a  friend  just  as  merry,  with  beautiful  locks  and  frank 
eyes  like  yours  ;  and  the  man  whom  she  loved  lost  his 
faith  in  the  gracious  protection  of  heaven,  and  in  order 
to  obtain  the  girl  he  denied  God  and  surrendered  him- 
self to  the  Evil  One.  That  was  fearful ;  her  heart 
became  heavy  and  a  foreboding  came  over  her ;  but 
she  did  not  lose  her  strength  of  mind,  nor  her  trust  in 
help  from  above  ;  and  her  faith  saved  her  lover,  over 
whom  the  Evil  One  had  already  stretched  out  his 
hand." 

Then  she  accurately  described  the  whole  dramatic 
course  of  the  action. 

"It  was  enchanting,  "she  said.  "  I  was  very  young, 
and  when  I  came  back  to  our  hotel  I  could  not  com- 


THE    FIRST    GREETINGS    OF    THE    CITY.  251 

pose    myself   and    my   father   was    obliged    to    scold 
me." 

Laura  listened,  sitting  on  a  footstool  at  Use's  feet; 
she  held  her  hand  fast  and  heard  her  account  as  a 
child  listens  to  a  tale  she  already  knows. 

"  How  well  you  describe  it ;  'tis  as  if  one  was  read- 
ing a  poem." 

"  Ah,  no, "exclaimed  Use,  shaking  her  head  ;  "  this 
compliment  is  just  what  I  do  not  in  the  least  deserve. 
I  have  never  in  my  life  made  a  verse  and  I  am  so  pro- 
saic that  I  do  not  know  how  my  unpolished  nature  will 
adapt  itself  to  the  town,  for  here  they  write  verses  ; 
they  hum  about  in  the  air  like  flies  in  summer." 

'What  do  you  mean?"  asked  Laura,  hanging  her 
head. 

•'Only  think,  even  I,  a  stranger,  have  received 
verses !  " 

"  That  is  quite  natural,"  said  Laura,  folding  her 
handkerchief  to  conceal  her  confusion. 

"  I  have  found  little  nosegays  on  the  bench  in  the 
park,  with  dear  little  poems,  and  the  name  of  my 
home  given  by  a  letter  and  stars.  See,  first  a  large 
B,  and  then " 

Laura,  in  her  delight  at  this  account,  looked  up, 
from  her  handkerchief.  Her  cheeks  were  suffused 
with  color.  There  was  a  roguish  smile  in  her  eyes. 

Use  looked  at  the  beaming  countenance  and,  as 
she  spoke,  guessed  that  she  was  the  giver. 

Laura  bent  down  to  kiss  her  hand,  but  Use  raised 
the  curly  head,  threatening  her  with  her  finger  and 
kissing  her. 

"You  are  not  angry  with  me,"  said  Laura,  "for 
being  so  bold?" 

"  It  was  very  sweet  and  kind  of  you,  but  you  must 


252  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

know  that  it  caused  us  a  great  deal  of  uneasiness. 
The  Doctor  discovered  you,  but  he  did  not  tell  us 
your  name." 

"The  Doctor?"  exclaimed  Laura,  starting  up. 
"Must  that  man  always  interfere  where  I  am  con- 
cerned !" 

"He  kept  your  secret  faithfully.  Now  I  may  tell 
my  husband  all  about  it,  may  I  not  ?  but,  between  our- 
selves, he  was  very  much  displeased  for  a  time." 

This  was  a  triumph  for  Laura.  Again  she  seated 
herself  at  Use's  feet  and  archly  begged  her  to  relate 
what  the  Professor  had  said. 

"  That  would  not  be  right, "  answered  Use,  gravely  ; 
"  that  is  his  secret." 

Thus  an  hour  passed  in  pleasant  talk  till  the  clock 
struck,  and  Use  rose  hastily.  "  My  husband  will  won- 
der where  I  have  disappeared  to,"  said  she.  "You 
are  a  dear  girl.  If  you  like  we  will  become  good 
friends." 

Ah  !  that  pleased  Laura  very  much.  She  accom- 
panied her  visitor  to  the  staircase,  and  on  the  step  it 
occurred  to  her  that  she  had  forgotten  the  principal 
thing  she  wanted  to  say;  her  room  was  directly  above 
that  of  the  Professor's  wife,  and  when  Use  opened  the 
window  she  could  communicate  quickly  with  her  by 
signals.  Just  as  Use  was  about  to  close  her  door, 
Laura  ran  down  once  more  in  order  to  express  her 
joy  that  Use  had  granted  her  this  hour. 

Laura  returned  to  her  room,  paced  up  and  down 
with  rapid  steps,  and  snapped  her  fingers  like  one 
who  has  won  the  great  prize  in  a  lottery.  She  con- 
fided to  her  journal  her  account  of  the  consecrated 
hour,  and  of  every  word  that  Use  had  spoken,  and 
concluded  with  verses  : 


A    DAY    OF   VISITS.  253 

"  I  found  thee,  pure  one  !    Now  my  dream  will  live. 

And  tho'  'twixt  joy  and  pain  thy  soul  may  pine, 
I  touch  thy  garment's  hem  and  homage  give, 
And  lovingly  thee  in  my  heart  enshrine." 

Then  she  seated  herself  at  the  piano  and  played 
with  impassioned  expression  the  melody  which  Use 
had  sung  to  her.  And  Use  below  heard  this  heartfelt 
outburst  of  thanks  for  her  visit. 

CHAPTER  XIV. 
A  DAY  OF  VISITS. 

A  CARRIAGE  drove  up  to  the  door.  Use  entered  her 
husband's  study,  attired  for  her  first  visit.  "Look  at 
me,"  she  said  ;  "do  I  look  all  right?  " 

"Very  well,"  cried  the  Professor,  joyfully,  scan- 
ning his  wife.  But  it  was  well  that  everything  was  as 
it  should  be  without  his  help,  for  in  matter  of  the 
toilet  the  critical  eye  of  the  Professor  was  of  doubtful 
value. 

"Now  I  begin  a  new  game, "  continued  Use,  "such 
as  the  children  used  to  play  at  home.  I  am  to  knock 
at  your  friends'  doors  and  call  out,  Halloa,  halloa  !  and 
when  the  ladies  ask,  Who  is  there  ?  I  shall  answer,  as 
in  the  game  : 

"  I  am  a  poor,  poor  beggar-maid, 

And  what  I  want  is  this  : 
For  me  I  want  a  piece  of  bread  ; 
For  my  husband  I  want  a  kiss."    " 

"Well,  so  far  as  the  kisses  are  concerned  that  I 
am  to  dispense  to  the  wives  of  my  colleagues,"  replied 
the  Professor,  putting  on  his  gloves,  "I  should,  on 
the  whole,  be  obliged  to  you  if  you  would  take  that 
business  upon  yourself." 

"Ah,  you  men  are  very  strict,"  said  Use;  "my 
little  Franz  also  always  refuses  to  play  the  game,  be- 


254  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

cause  he  would  not  kiss  the  stupid  girls.     I  only  hope 
that  I'll  not  disgrace  you." 

They  drove  through  the  streets.  On  the  way  the 
Professor  gave  his  wife  an  account  of  the  persons  and 
the  particular  branch  of  learning  of  each  of  his  col- 
leagues to  whom  he  was  taking  her. 

"Let  us  visit  pleasant  people  first,"  he  said. 
"Yonder  lives  Professor  Raschke,  our  professor  of 
philosophy,  and  a  dear  friend  of  mine.  I  hope  his 
wife  will  please  you." 

"Is  he  very  famous,"  asked  Use,  laying  her  hand 
on  her  beating  heart. 

The  carriage  stopped  before  a  low  dwelling  at  the 
further  end  of  the  suburb.  Gabriel  hastened  into  the 
house  to  announce  the  visitors  ;  finding  the  kitchen 
empty,  he  knocked  at  the  parlor-door,  and,  finally, 
being  experienced  in  the  customs  of  the  family, 
opened  the  entrance  into  the  court  yard.  "  Professor 
Raschke  and  his  wife  are  in  the  garden." 

The  visitors  passed  through  a  narrow  yard  into  a 
kitchen-garden,  which  the  owner  of  the  house  had 
given  his  lodger  permission  to  walk  in,  to  get  the  bene- 
fit of  the  air.  The  couple  were  walking  along  the  path 
under  the  noon-sun  of  an  autumn  day.  The  lady  car- 
ried a  little  child  on  her  arm ;  the  husband  held  a 
book  in  his  hand,  from  which  he  was  reading  to  his 
companion.  In  order,  however,  to  do  as  much  family 
duty  as  possible,  the  Professor  had  fastened  the  pole 
of  a  baby  carriage  to  his  belt  and  thus  drew  a  second 
child  alter  him.  The  backs  of  the  couple  were  turned 
to  the  guests  and  they  moved  slowly  forward,  listening 
and  reading  aloud. 

"An  encounter  in    the  narrow  path  is  not  desi- 


A    DAY    OF    VISITS.  255 

table,"  said  Felix;  "we  must  wait  until  they  turn 
round  the  square  and  face  us." 

It  was  some  time  before  the 'procession  overcame 
the  hindrances  of  the  journey,  for  the  Professor  in  the 
eagerness  of  reading,  sometimes  stopped  to  explain,  as 
might  be  seen  from  the  motion  of  his  hands.  Use 
examined  the  appearance  of  the  strange  pedestrians 
with  curiosity.  The  wife  was  pale  and  delicate ;  one 
could  perceive  that  she  had  recently  left  a  sick  bed. 
The  man  had  a  nobly  formed,  intellectual  face,  about 
which  hung  long  dark  hair  with  a  sprinkling  of  gray 
upon  it.  They  had  come  close  to  the  guests,  when 
the  wife  turned  her  eyes  from  her  husband  and  per- 
ceived the  visitors. 

"What  a  pleasure  !  "  cried  the  Philosopher,  drop- 
ping his  book  into  the  great  pocket  of  his  coat.  "Good 
morning,  my  dear  colleague.  Ha  !  that  is  our  dear 
Professor's  wife.  Unhitch  me  from  the  carriage, 
Aurelia;  the  family  bonds  hamper  me." 

The  unhitching  took  some  time,  as  the  hands  of 
the  mistress  of  the  house  were  not  free,  and  Professor 
Raschke  by  no  means  kept  still,  but  struggled  forward, 
and  had  already  seized  with  both  hands  those  of  his 
colleague  and  wife. 

"Come  into  the  house,  my  dear  guests,"  he  ex- 
claimed, striding  forward  with  long  steps,  while  Felix 
introduced  his  wife  to  the  lady.  Professor  Raschke 
forgot  his  baby  carriage,  which  Use  lifted  over  the 
threshold  and  rolled  into  the  hall.  There  she  took  up 
the  neglected  child  from  its  seat  and  both  ladies  en- 
tered the  room  with  a  diminutive  chip  of  philosophy 
in  their  arms,  exchanging  their  first  friendly  greetings, 
while  the  little  one  in  Use's  arms  lustily  swung  his 
rattle,  and  the  youngest  child  on  the  arm  of  its  mother 


256  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

began  to  scream.  Meanwhile  colleague  Raschke  went 
about  clearing  the  room,  removed  books  and  papers 
from  the  sofa,  shook  faded  sofa-cushions  into  form, 
which  emitted  clouds  of  dust,  and  cordially  invited  his 
guests  to  be  seated. 

At  length  the  confusion  subsided.  Use  played  with 
the  child  on  her  lap,  while  Mrs.  Raschke  after  a  dis- 
appearance for  a  moment  came  back  without  the 
screaming  infant.  She  sat  shyly  by  Use,  but  asked 
her  friendly  questions  in  a  gentle  voice.  The  lively 
Philosopher,  however,  was  always  interrupting  the 
conversation  of  the  ladies ;  he  stroked  the  hand  of  the 
Professor,  while  he  nodded  in  the  direction  of  his  wife. 
"This  is  quite  right;  I  rejoice  that  you  accustom 
yourself  to  our  mode  of  life  while  still  so  young,  for 
our  wives  have  not  an  easy  time  of  it — their  outer  life 
is  limited  and  they  have  many  demands  made  upon 
them  at  home.  We  are  often  wearisome  companions, 
difficult  to  deal  with,  peevish,  morose,  and  perverse." 
He  shook  his  head  disapprovingly  over  the  character 
of  the  world  of  learning,  but  his  face  smiled  with  gen- 
uine pleasure. 

The  end  of  the  visit  was  hastened  by  the  baby,  who 
began  to  cry  piteously  in  the  next  room. 

"Are  you  going  already?"  said  the  Philosopher  to 
Use  ;  "this  cannot  be  counted  as  a  visit.  You  please 
me  much,  and  you  have  true  eyes  ;  and  I  see  that  you 
have  a  kind  disposition,  and  that  is  everything.  All 
we  want  is,  in  the  face  a  good  mirror  through  which 
the  images  of  life  are  reflected  fully  and  purely,  and 
in  the  heart  an  enduring  flame  which  will  communi- 
cate its  warmth  to  others.  Whoever  has  that  will  do 
well,  even  if  it  is  her  fate  to  be  the  wife  as  you  are,  of 


A    DAY    OF    VISITS.  257 

a  sedentary  student,  and  as  is  this  poor  mother  of  five 
screaming  young  ones." 

Again  he  strode  rapidly  about,  fetched  an  old  hat 
from  the  corner  and  handed  it  to  the  wife  of  his  col- 
league. Use  laughed. 

"Oh,  I  see.  It  is  a  gentleman's  hat,"  said  Pro- 
fessor Raschke  ;  "perhaps  it  belongs  to  your  husband." 

"  I  also  am  provided  with  one,"  said  the  Professor. 

"Then  it  must  be  my  own  after  all,  "said  Raschke  ; 
and  jamming  the  hat  on  his  head,  he  accompanied  his 
guests  to  the  carriage. 

For  some  time  Use  sat  in  the  carriage  dumb  with 
astonishment.  "  Now  I  have  regained  my  courage, 
Felix  ;  the  professors  are  still  less  alarming  than  the 
students." 

"All  will  not  receive  you  so  warmly,"  answered 
the  Professor.  "  He  who  comes  next  is  my  colleague 
Struvelius  ;  he  teaches  Greek  and  Latin,  as  I  do  ;  he 
is  not  one  of  my  intimate  acquaintances,  but  is  a 
thorough  scholar." 

This  time  it  was  a  house  in  the  city;  the  appart- 
ments  were  a  little  more  ancient  than  in  Use's  new 
dwelling.  This  professor's  wife  wore  a  black  silk  dress, 
and  was  sitting  before  a  writing-table  covered  with 
books  and  papers  ;  a  delicate  lady,  of  middle  age,  with 
a  small  but  clever  face  and  an  extraordinary  coiffure ; 
for  her  short  hair  was  combed  behind  her  ears  in  one 
large  roll  of  curl,  which  gave  her  a  certain  resem- 
blance to  Sappho  or  Corinne,  so  far  as  a  comparison 
is  allowable  with  ladies  of  antiquity,  the  growth  of 
whose  hair  is  by  no  means  satisfactorily  ascertained. 

Mrs.  Struvelius  arose  slowly  and  greeted  the  vis- 
itors with  haughty  demeanor ;  she  expressed  her  pleas- 
ure to  Use  and  then  turned  to  the  Professor.  "I  have 


258  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

to-day  commenced  reading  the  work  of  colleague 
Raschke  and  I  admire  the  deep  thought  of  the  man." 

' '  His  writings  are  delightful, "  replied  the  Professor, 
"  because  in  all  of  them  we  discover  a  thorough  and 
pure-minded  man." 

I  agree  with  your  premise  and  consequent  conclu- 
sion in  this  particular  instance,  but  with  regard  to  the 
general  proposition  you  assert,  allow  me  to  say  that 
many  works  that  form  an  epoch  in  literature  would 
have  no  great  excellence,  if  it  were  necessary  to  be  a 
perfect  man  in  order  to  write  a  good  book." 

Use  looked  timidly  at  the  learned  lady  who  had 
ventured  to  oppose  her  husband. 

"Yet  we  will  come  to  an  agreement, "  continued 
the  Professor's  wife,  fluently,  as  if  she  were  reading 
from  a  book.  "  It  is  not  requisite  for  every  valuable 
work  that  its  author  should  be  a  man  of  character,  but 
he  who  truly  has  this  noble  qualification,  would  be  un- 
likely to  produce  anything  which  would  have  an  un- 
favorable influence  on  his  branch  of  learning  ;  un- 
doubtedly the  weaknesses  of  a  learned  work  originate 
more  frequently  than  one  supposes  in  the  author's 
weakness  of  character." 

The  Professor  nodded  assentingly. 

"For,"  she  continued,  "the  position  which  a 
scholar  assumes  with  respect  to  the  great  questions  of 
the  day,  affecting  his  branch  of  learning — nay,  with 
respect  even  to  the  advantages  and  deficiencies  of  his 
method — may  generally  be  explained  from  his  char- 
acter. You  have  always  lived  in  the  country,"  she 
said,  turning  to  Use.  "It  would  be  instructive  to  me 
to  learn  what  impression  you  have  received  of  the 
mutual  relations  of  people  in  the  town." 

"  I  have  met  but  few  as  yet,"  rejoined  Use,  timidly. 


A    DAY    OF   VISITS.  259 

"Of  course,"  said  Mrs.  Struvelius.  "But  I  mean 
that  you  will  observe  with  surprise  that  near  neighbor- 
hood does  not  always  imply  intimate  intercourse. 
But  Struvelius  must  be  told  you  are  here." 

She  rose,  opened  the  door  of  the  next  room,  and 
standing  bolt  upright  by  the  door,  called  out  : 

"Professor  and  Mrs.  Werner  !  " 

A  slight  murmur  and  the  hasty  rustling  of  leaves 
of  a  book  were  heard  in  the  adjoining  room.  The 
wife  closed  the  door  and  continued  : 

"For  after  all  we  live  among  many  and  associate 
with  few.  In  the  city  we  choose  from  among  many 
individuals  with  a  certain  arbitrariness.  One  might 
have  more  acquaintance  than  one  has,  but  even  this 
feeling  gives  you  confidence,  and  such  confidence  is 
more  easily  acquired  in  town  than  in  the  country." 

The  side  door  opened.  Professor  Struvelius  entered 
with  an  absent-minded  manner.  He  had  a  sharp  nose, 
thin  lips  and  wore  an  unusual  style  of  head  dress.  For 
his  hair  stood  so  peculiarly  after  its  own  fashion,  that 
one  was  justified  in  assuming  that  the  head  gear  was 
hereditary  and  had  suggested  the  name  of  the  family. 
He  bowed  slightly,  pushed  a  chair  forward  and  seated 
himself  in  it  silently — probably  his  thoughts  were  still 
occupied  with  his  Greek  historian.  Use  suffered  from 
the  conviction  that  the  visit  was  an  inopportune  inter- 
ruption and  that  it  was  a  great  condescension  on  the 
part  of  his  wife  to  speak  to  her  at  all. 

"  Are  you  musical  ?  "said  Mrs.  Struvelius,  inquisi- 
tively. 

"  I  can  hardly  say  so,"  answered  Use. 

"  I  am  glad  of  it,"  said  the  hostess,  moving  oppo- 
site to  her  and  examining  her  with  her  sharp  eyes. 
"  From  my  estimate  of  you,  I  should  think  you  could 


260  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

not  be  musical.  The  art  of  music  makes  us  weak  and 
leads  too  frequently  to  an  imperfect  state  of  exist- 
ence." 

Felix  endeavored,  with  little  success,  to  make  the 
Professor  take  part  in  the  conversation  ;  and  the  vis- 
itors soon  rose.  On  taking  leave,  Mrs.  Struvelius 
stretched  the  lower  part  of  her  arm  in  a  rectangular 
line  toward  Use  and  said,  with  a  solemn  pressure  of 
the  hand  : 

"  Pray  feel  yourself  at  home  with  us."  And  the 
words  of  her  husband,  bidding  them  adieu,  were  cut 
short  by  the  closing  of  the  door. 

"  What  do  you  say  now  ?"  said  the  Professor,  as 
they  drove  away. 

"Ah,  Felix,  I  feel  very  insignificant;  my  courage 
has  left  me,  I  would  rather  return  home." 

"Be  composed,"  said  the  husband,  consolingly; 
"you  are  going  about  to-day  as  if  you  were  at  a  fair, 
looking  over  the  contents  of  the  tables.  What  does 
not  please  you,  you  need  not  buy.  The  next  visit  is 
to  our  historian,  a  worthy  man,  who  is  one  of  the  good 
genii  of  our  University.  His  daughter  also  is  an 
amiable  young  lady." 

A  servant  opened  the  door  and  conducted  them 
into  the  reception-room.  There  were  some  good  land- 
scapes on  the  wall ;  a  pianoforte,  a  pretty  flower  stand, 
with  rare  plants,  well  arranged  and  taken  care  of. 
The  daughter  entered  hastily  ;  she  had  a  delicate  face 
with  beautiful  dark  eyes.  A  stately  old  gentleman 
with  a  distinguished  air  followed  her.  He  looked 
something  like  a  high  official,  only  his  lively  way  of 
speaking  showed  him  to  be  a  man  of  learning.  Use 
was  warmly  and  heartily  welcomed.  The  old  gentle- 
man seated  himself  near  her  and  began  an  easy  con- 


A    DAY    OF   VISITS.  26l 

versation,  and  Use  soon  felt  herself  as  comfortable  as 
with  an  intimate  acquaintance.  She  was  also  reminded 
of  her  home,  for  he  asked  : 

"  Are  any  of  the  remains  of  the  old  monastery  at 
Rossau  still  preserved  ?  " 

Felix  looked  up  with  curiosity,  and  Use  answered  : 
"  Only  the  walls  ;  the  interior  is  rebuilt." 
"  It  was  one  of  the  oldest  ecclesiastical  foundations 
of  your  region,  and  has  stood  many  centuries,  and  un- 
doubtedly exercised  influence  over  a  wide  district.     It 
is  remarkable  that  the  records  of  the  monastery  are 
almost  all  wanting,  and  all  other  accounts  or  notices, 
so  far  as  I  know,  are  very  scanty.     One  may  suppose 
that  much  still  lies  in  concealment  there." 

Use  observed  how  the  countenance  of  her  husband 
lighted  up  ;  but  he  replied,  quietly  : 

"  In  the  place  itself,  my  inquiries  were  in  vain." 
"That  is  possible,"  agreed  the  Historian.      "  Per- 
haps the  documents  have  been  taken  to  the   seat  of 
government,  and  lie  there  unused." 

Thus  passed  one  visit  after  another.  Next  came 
the  Rector,  a  Professor  of  Medicine,  an  agreeable  man 
of  the  world,  who  kept  up  an  elegant  establishment. 
His  wife  was  a  plump,  active  lady,  with  restless,  in- 
quiring eyes.  Then  came  the  Secretary  of  the  theo- 
logical Consistory,  a  tall,  thin  gentleman  with  a  sweet 
smile  ;  his  wife,  too,  was  over-proportioned  in  every- 
thing,— in  nose,  mouth,  and  hospitality.  The  last  was 
the  Mineralogist,  a  clever  young  man  with  a  very  pretty 
wife  ;  they  had  only  been  married  a  few  months.  While 
the  young  women,  seated  on  the  sofa,  were  rapidly 
becoming  acquainted,  Use  was  for  the  second  time 
surprised  by  a  question  from  the  Professor  : 


262  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

"Your  home  is  not  without  interest  for  my  depart- 
ment. Is  there  not  a  cave  in  the  neighborhood  ?  " 

Use  colored  and  looked  again  at  her  husband. 

"It  is  on  my  father's  estate." 

"Indeed  !  I  am  just  now  at  work  on  a  new  dis- 
covery that  has  been  made  on  your  estate,"  exclaimed 
the  Mineralogist. 

He  produced  a  stone  of  remarkably  radiated  struc- 
ture. 

"This  is  a  very  rare  mineral  that  has  been  discov- 
ered in  the  neighborhood  of  the  cave  ;  it  was  sent  me 
by  an  apothecary  of  the  province." 

He  told  her  the  name  of  the  mineral,  and  spoke  of 
the  stone  of  which  the  cave  was  formed,  and  the  rock 
on  which  her  father's  house  stood,  just  as  if  he  had 
been  there  himself,  and  made  Use  describe  the  lines 
of  the  hills  and  the  quarries  of  the  neighborhood.  He 
listened  attentively  to  her  clear  answers,  and  thought 
the  geological  structure  of  the  estate  very  remarkable. 

Use  was  delighted  and  exclaimed  : 

"We  imagined  that  no  one  in  the  world  cared 
about  us ;  but  I  see  the  learned  gentlemen  know  more 
about  our  country  than  we  ourselves  do." 

"We  know,  at  least,  how  to  find  something  more 
precious  than  fragments  of  rock  there,"  replied  the 
Professor  courteously. 

After  their  return  home,  Use  entered  her  husband's 
room,  where  he  had  already  sat  down  to  his  work. 

"Let  me  remain  with  you  to-day,  Felix  ?  My  head 
is  confused  with  all  the  persons  to  whom  you  have 
taken  me ;  I  have  seen  so  much  within  one  day,  and 
have  had  so  much  friendliness  shown  me  by  clever 
and  distinguished  men.  The  learned  lady  frightened 
me  most ;  and,  Felix,  it  is  perhaps  wrong  in  me  to 


A    DAY    OF    VISITS.  263 

say  so,  for  she  is  much  more  clever  and  refined,  but 
I  found  a  resemblance  in  her  to  a  good  old  acquaint- 
ance of  ours." 

"Mrs.  Rollmaus,"  assented  the  Professor.  "But 
this  lady  is  in  reality  very  clever,"  he  added. 

"Heaven  grant,"  said  Use,  "that  she  may  be 
equally  true-hearted  !  But  I  feel  terrified  at  her  learn- 
ing. I  like  the  other  ladies,  and  the  husbands  still 
better.  There  is  something  noble  about  almost  all  of 
them,  they  converse  wonderfully  well,  they  are  un- 
constrained and  seem  to  have  real  inward  happiness 
and  gladness  of  heart ;  and  naturally  so,  for  they  hover 
over  the  earth  like  your  gods  of  old,  and,  therefore, 
they  may  well  be  cheerful.  Ah  !  and  there  was  the 
patched  smoking  jacket  which  dear  Professor  Raschke 
wore — rnoth  and  rust  will  never  eat  that !  When  I 
think  that  all  these  clever  people  have  treated  me  with 
kindness  and  regard,  solely  on  my  husband's  account, 
I  do  not  know  how  I  can  thank  you  sufficiently.  And 
now  that  I  have  been  received  into  this  new  society, 
I  can  only  ask  that  my  entrance  into  it  may  be  blessed." 

"  The  husband  stretched  out  his  hand  and  drew 
her  toward  him  ;  she  clasped  his  head  with  her  hands 
and  bent  over  him. 

"What  are  you  working  at  now?"  she  asked, 
softly. 

"Nothing  very  important ;  merely  a  treatise  that 
I  have  to  prepare  every  year  for  the  University." 

He  then  told  her  something  of  the  contents  of  the 
work. 

"And  when  that  is  finished,  what  then?  " 

"Then  I  must  set  about  other  tasks." 

'  And  thus  it  goes  on  always  from  morning  to 
evening,  every  year,  till  the  eyes  fail  and  the  strength 


264  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

breaks,"  said  Use  piteously.  "I  have  a  great  favor 
to  ask  of  you  to-day,  Felix.  Will  you  show  me  the 
books  which  you  have  written — all  of  them  ?  " 

"All  that  I  still  possess,"  said  the  Professor,  and 
he  collected  books  and  treatises  here  and  there  from 
every  corner. 

Use  opened  one  work  after  another,  and  she  found 
that  she  already  knew  the  Latin  titles  of  some  of  them 
by  heart.  The  Professor  became  interested  in  this 
occupation,  and  was  always  finding  more  little  treatises 
which  he  had  forgotten.  Use  laid  them  all  before  her 
in  a  heap  and  began  solemnly  : 

"A  great  crisis  has  now  come  for  me.  I  wish  to 
learn  from  you  the  contents  of  each  writing  as  far  as 
you  are  able  to  explain  it  to  your  wife.  When  I  was 
already  secretly  in  love  with  you,  the  children  found 
your  name  in  the  encyclopedia  ;  we  endeavored  to  read 
the  strange  titles  of  your  books,  and  Mrs.  Rollmaus 
made  conjectures  in  her  way  as  to  the  contents.  Then 
I  felt  sorry  that  I  could  understand  nothing  of  what 
you  had  done  for  mankind.  Since  that,  1  have  always 
hoped  the  day  would  come  when  I  could  ask  you  what 
it  was  that  you  knew  better  than  others,  and  by  reason 
of  which  I  should  be  proud  of  belonging  to  you.  The 
hour  is  now  come  ;  for  to-day  you  have  introduced  me 
to  your  friends  as  your  wife,  and  I  want  to  be  your 
wife  there  too  where  your  treasure  and  your  heart  are 
— as  far  as  I  can." 

''Dear  Use,"  exclaimed  the  Professor,  carried 
away  by  her  frank  dignity. 

"  But  do  not  forget,"  continued  Use,  with  empha- 
sis, "that  I  understand  very  little,  and  pray  have  pa- 
tience with  me.  1  have  arranged  how  I  wish  to  have  it 
done.  Write  down  for  me,  in  a  note-book  that  I  have 


A    DAY    OF    VISITS.  265 

bought  for  the  purpose,  the  titles,  as  they  are  in  the 
foreign  language  and  also  in  German,  first  of  your  ear- 
liest works  and  then  the  last.  Together  with  this, 
note  down  what  value  you  place  on  the  work,  and 
what  is  its  importance  for  mankind.  Underneath  every 
work  I  will  set  down  what  I  understand  from  your 
explanation,  that  I  may  well  remember  them." 

She  produced  a  note-book  ;  the  Professor  searched 
again  for  some  more  treatises,  arranged  them  accord- 
ing to  date,  and  wrote  each  title  on  one  page  of  the 
book.  Then  he  gave  his  wife  some  explanation  of  the 
contents  of  each  work,  and  helped  her  to  write  her  re- 
marks in  the  note-book. 

"Those  in  German  I  will  endeavor  to  read  my- 
self," said  Use. 

Thus  they  both  sat  bending  eagerly  over  the  books, 
and  the  Professor's  heart  beat  with  pleasure  at  the 
earnestness  with  which  his  wife  endeavored  to  under- 
stand his  occupations.  For  it  is  the  lot  of  the  scholar 
that  few  look  with  sympathy  upon  his  trouble,  his  strug- 
gles, and  the  worth  of  his  work.  The  world  regards  him 
as  a  common  laborer.  What  he  has  formed,  with  endur- 
ing strength,  henceforth  becomes  a  building-stone  in  the 
immeasurable  house  of  learning  on  which  all  the  races 
of  the  earth  have  been  laboring  for  thousands  of  years. 
Hundreds  of  others  make  a  foundation  of  it  to  advance 
their  own  work ;  thousands  of  new  blocks  are  piled 
upon  it,  and  there  are  few  to  inquire  who  has  chiseled 
the  separate  columns,  and  still  more  seldom  does  a 
stranger  grasp  the  hand  of  the  workman.  The  light 
works  of  the  poet  are  long  greeted  by  those  in  whom 
he  has  raised  a  cheerful  smile  or  an  exalted  feeling. 
But  the  scholar  seldom  makes  a  valuable  confidant  or 
friend  of  his  reader  by  his  individual  works.  He  does 


266  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

not  paint  enchanting  pictures  for  the  imagination  ;  he 
does  not  flatter  the  yearning  soul ;  he  demands  the 
utmost  seriousness  and  the  closest  attention  from  his 
readers,  the  benefit  of  which  redounds  to  himself  in 
every  criticism  that  is  made.  Even  where  he  inspires 
respect  he  remains  a  stranger. 

And  yet  he  is  not  a  mere  stonemason  who  cuts  form- 
less blocks  according  to  prescribed  measures.  He 
works  independently  and  contributes  his  own  life-blood, 
sometimes  suffering  great  depression,  sometimes  full 
of  joy  and  happiness.  The  fruits  that  he  proffers 
his  age  have  grown  from  the  deepest  roots  of  his  life. 
Therefore  the  honest  mind  that  enters  heartily  into  the 
labor  of  the  learned,  and  not  only  inquires  for  the  ulti- 
mate result  of  learning,  but  takes  an  interest  in  the 
inward  struggle  of  the  workman,  is  to  him  a  valuable 
treasure,  a  rare  happiness. — Felix  now  looked  with 
emotion  at  his  wife,  who  was  striving  to  occupy  this 
position,  and  tender  emotions  swelled  the  heart  of  the 
strong-minded  man  while  he  explained  to  her  the  sub- 
jects of  his  labors, — while  he  told  her  about  the  Roman 
tribus  and  the  duties  of  the  senate. 

When  all  was  noted  down,  Use  laid  her  hands  on 
the  books  and  exclaimed  : 

"Here  I  have  all.  What  a  small  space  they  oc- 
cupy, yet  they  employed  many  laborious  days  and 
nights,  and  the  best  portion  of  your  noble  life.  This 
has  often  given  you  flushed  cheeks  as  you  have  to-day. 
For  this  you  have  studied  till  your  poor  brain  has 
been  on  fire,  and  for  this  you  have  always  sat  in  a 
confined  room.  I  have  hitherto  looked  upon  books 
with  indifference  ;  now  for  the  first  time  I  perceive 
what  a  book  is,  a  quiet  endless  labor." 

"That  is  not  to  be  said  of  all,"   replied  the  Pro- 


A    DAY    OF    VISITS.  267 

fessor ;  "but  the  superior  ones  are  more  even  than  a 
labor." 

He  gazed  lovingly  on  the  walls  along  which  the 
high  book-shelves  reached  up  to  the  very  ceiling,  so 
that  the  room  looked  as  if  papered  with  the  backs  of 
books. 

"The  great  number  of  them  quite  frightens  me," 
said  Use,  helping  him  to  make  room  for  his  own  books 
in  a  dark  corner,  which  was  now  cleared  for  them  as 
their  resting-place.  "  They  look  so  calm  and  com- 
posed, and  yet  many  of  them  may  have  been  written 
with  such  impassioned  feeling,  and  have  excited  their 
readers,  too." 

"Yes,"  said  her  husband,  "they  are  the  great  treas- 
ure-wards of  the  human  race.  They  preserve  all  that 
is  most  valuable  of  what  has  ever  been  thought  or  dis- 
covered, from  one  century  to  another ;  and  they  pro- 
claim what  existed  once,  and  once  only,  upon  the 
earth.  Here  is  what  was  produced  full  a  thousand 
years  before  our  era,  and  close  beside  them  those  that 
have  come  into  the  world  but  a  few  weeks  ago." 

"Yet,  from  the  coats  that  they  wear,  they  look 
almost  like  each  other,"  said  Use.  "  I  should  have  diffi- 
culty in  distinguishing  them." 

The  Professor  explained  their  arrangement  and  led 
her  from  one  book  shelf  to  another,  pointing  out  those 
works  which  were  his  special  favorites. 

"And  you  use  them  all?" 

"Yes,  and  many  more  at  times.  These  that  you 
see  here  are  only  an  infinitely  small  portion  of  the 
books  that  have  been  printed  ;  for  since  the  invention 
of  books,  almost  all  that  we  know  and  call  learning  is 
to  be  found  in  them.  But  that  is  not  all,"  he  con- 


268  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

tinued  ;  "few  know  that  a  book  is  something  more 
than  simply  a  product  of  the  creative  mind,  which  its 
author  sends  forth  as  a  cabinet-maker  does  a  chair  that 
has  been  ordered.  There  remains,  indeed,  attached 
to  every  human  work  something  of  the  soul  of  the  man 
who  has  produced  it.  But  a  book  contains  between 
its  covers  the  actual  soul  of  the  man.  The  real  value 
of  a  man  to  others — the  best  portion  of  his  life — re- 
mains in  this  ^orm  for  the  generations  that  follow, 
and  perhaps  for  the  farthermost  future.  Moreover, 
not  only  those  who  write  a  good  book,  but  those  whose 
lives  and  actions  are  portrayed  in  it,  continue  in  fact 
living  among  us.  We  converse  with  them  as  with 
friends  and  opponents  ;  we  admire  or  contend  with, 
love  or  hate  them,  not  less  than  if  they  dwelt  bodily 
among  us.  The  human  soul  that  is  enclosed  in  such 
a  cover  becomes  imperishable  on  earth,  and,  therefore, 
we  may  say  that  the  soul-life  of  the  individual  becomes 
enduring  in  books,  and  only  the  soul  which  is  encased 
in  a  book  has  certain  duration  on  earth." 

"But  error  persists  also,"  said  Use,  "and  so  do 
liars  and  impure  spirits  when  they  are  put  in  books." 

"They  undoubtedly  do,  but  are  refuted  by  better 
souls.  Very  different,  certainly,  is  the  value  and  im- 
port of  these  imperishable  records.  Few  maintain 
their  beauty  and  importance  for  all  periods  ;  many  are 
only  valuable  at  a  later  time,  because  we  ascertain 
from  them  the  character  and  life  of  men  in  their  days, 
while  others  are  quite  useless  and  ephemeral.  But 
all  books  that  have  ever  been  written  from  the  earliest 
to  the  latest,  have  a  mysterious  connection.  For, 
observe,  no  one  who  has  written  a  book  has  of  him- 
self become  what  he  is ;  every  one  stands  on  the 
shoulders  of  his  predecessor ;  all  that  was  produced 


A    DAY    OF    VISITS.  269 

before  his  time  has  helped  to  form  his  life  and  soul. 
Again,  what  he  has  produced,  has  in  some  sort  formed 
other  men,  and  thus  his  soul  has  passed  to  later  times. 
In  this  way  the  contents  of  books  form  one  great  soul- 
empire  on  earth,  and  all  who  now  write,  live  and  nour- 
ish themselves  on  the  souls  of  the  past  generations. 
From  this  point  of  view  the  soul  of  mankind  is  an  im- 
measurable unity,  which  comprises  every  one  who  ever 
thus  lived  and  worked,  as  well  as  those  who  breathe 
and"  produce  new  works  at  present.  The  soul,  which 
past  generations  felt  as  their  own,  has  been  and  is 
daily  transmigrating  into  others.  What  is  written  to- 
day may  to-morrow  become  the  possession  of  thou- 
sands of  strangers.  Those  who  have  long  ago  ceased 
to  exist  in  the  body  continue  to  live  in  new  forms  here 
on  earth,  and  daily  revive  in  thousands  of  others." 

"Stop,"  cried  Use,  entreatingly,  "I  am  bewil- 
dered." 

"I  tell  you  this  now,  because  I  too  feel  myself  a 
modest  worker  in  this  earthly  soul-empire.  This  feel- 
ing gives  me  a  pleasure  in  life  which  is  indestructible, 
and  it  also  gives  me  both  freedom  and  modesty.  For 
whoever  works  with  this  feeling,  whether  his  powers 
be  great  or  small,  does  so  not  for  his  own  honor,  but 
for  all.  He  does  not  live  for  himself  but  for  all,  as  all 
who  have  before  existed  continue  to  live  for  him." 

He  spoke  earnestly,  sitting  surrounded  by  his  books, 
with  the  setting  sun  casting  its  friendly  rays  on  his 
head  and  on  the  home  of  his  spirit — the  book-shelves. 
And  Use,  leaning  on  his  shoulder,  said  humbly  :  "I 
am  yours.  Teach  me,  form  me,  and  make  me  under- 
stand what  you  understand. " 


270  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

CHAPTER  XV. 
AMONG  THE  LEARNED. 

ILSE  popped  her  head  into  her  husband's  study  : 
"  May  I  interrupt  you  ?  " 

"Come  in." 

"Felix,  what  is  the  difference  between  Fauns  and 
Satyrs  ?  Here  I  read  that  Satyrs  have  goats'  feet,  but 
that  Fauns  have  men's  feet  and  little  tails." 

"Who  says  that?"  asked  Felix,  indignantly. 

"Why,  here  it  is  in  print,"  replied  Use.  And  as 
she  spoke  she  showed  an  open  book  to  her  husband. 

"But  it  is  not  true,"  answered  the  Professor,  as 
he  explained  the  matter  to  her.  "The  Greeks  had 
Satyrs,  the  Romans  Fauns.  The  gentleman  with  the 
goat's  foot  is  called  Pan.  But  how  did  this  Bacchan- 
alian train  get  into  your  household?" 

"You  said  yesterday  that  the  Councillor  of  the 
Consistory  had  a  Faun's  face.  Then  the  question 
arose  what  is  a  Faun's  face,  and  what  is  a  Faun  ? 
Laura  remembered  perfectly  having  learnt  at  school 
that  he  was  a  fabulous  creature  of  the  Romans,  and 
she  brought  the  book  in  which  these  creatures  are 
portrayed.  What  a  wild  set  they  are  !  Why  have  they 
pointed  ears  like  the  deer,  and  what  have  you  to 
say,  if  even  in  such  things  one  cannot  rely  on  your 
books?" 

"Come  here,"  said  Felix,  "and  I  will  soon  intro- 
duce you  to  the  whole  company."  He  selected  a  book 
of  engravings  and  showed  her  the  figures  of  the  whole 
train  of  Bacchus.  For  a  time  the  instruction  went  on 
well ;  but  then  Use  objected,  saying  :  "They  all  have 
very  few  clothes  on." 


AMONG    THE    LEARNED.  271 

"Art  cares  more  for  the  body  than  for  dress," 
said  her  husband. 

But  Use  at  last  became  uneasy;  she  closed  the  book 
and  exclaimed,  coloring;  "I  must  go;  my  help  is 
needed  in  the  kitchen  to-day,  as  a  new  pudding  has 
to  be  made.  That  is  my  high  school,  and  the  servant 
is  still  a  novice."  She  hastened  out.  Once  more 
popping  her  head  through  the  door,  she  exclaimed, 
"Tell  your  Satyrs  and  Fauns  that  I  had  a  better  opin- 
ion of  them  ;  they  are  very  immodest." 

"They  are  indeed,"  exclaimed  Felix,  "and  they 
make  no  pretensions  to  being  otherwise." 

At  dinner,  when  Felix  had  sufficiently  admired  the 
pudding,  Use,  laying  down  her  spoon,  said  seriously  : 
"  Do  not  show  me  such  pictures  again.  I  would  like 
to  love  your  heathens,  but  I  cannot  if  they  are  like 
that." 

"They  are  not  all  so  bad,"  said  her  husband,  con- 
solingly ;  "if  you  like,  we  will  this  evening  pay  a  visit 
to  some  of  the  notables  of  antiquity." 

With  this  day  Use  began  a  new  period  of  learning. 
Soon  a  fixed  hour  was  arranged  for  her  husband's  ex- 
planations— the  most  valuable  part  of  the  day  to  Use. 
First  the  Professor  gave  her  a  short  description  of  the 
great  civilized  nations  of  antiquity  and  the  middle 
ages,  and  wrote  down  a  few  names  and  dates  for  her 
that  she  learnt  by  heart.  He  pointed  out  to  her  that 
the  whole  life  of  man  was,  in  fact,  nothing  but  an  un- 
ceasing receiving,  transforming,  and  giving  forth  of  the 
materials,  pictures,  and  impressions  presented  by  the 
surrounding  world  ;  that  the  whole  intellectual  de- 
velopment of  man  is,  in  fact,  nothing  but  an  earnest 
and  reverent  search  after  truth  ;  and  that  the  whole  of 
political  history  is,  in  fact,  nothing  but  the  gradual  sub- 


272  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

duing  of  that  egotism  which  produces  disunion  between 
men  and  nations,  by  the  creation  of  new  wants,  the 
increase  of  a  feeling  of  duty  and  the  growth  of  love 
and  respect  for  all  mankind. 

After  this  preparation  the  Professor  began  to  read 
the  Odyssey  aloud  to  her,  adding  short  explanations. 
Never  had  poetry  so  grand  and  pure  an  influence  upon- 
her  soul ;  the  lively  legendary  style  of  the  first  part 
and  the  powerful  development  of  the  second  quite 
captivated  her  heart.  The  characters  became  almost 
like  living  forms  to  her  ;  she  wandered,  suffered,  and 
triumphed  with  them — raised  into  a  new  world  of 
more  beautiful  images  and  higher  feelings.  Then 
when  the  conclusion  came  and  the  long-suffering 
Ulysses  sat  opposite  to  his  wife,  the  bold  touches  of 
the  scene  of  recognition  struck  a  secret  chord  in  the 
heart  of  the  young  wife.  Deep  was  the  impression. 
She  sat  near  her  beloved  husband,  her  cheeks  suffused 
with  blushes,  her  eyes  moist  with  tears  and  modestly 
cast  down  ;  and  when  he  ended  she  clasped  her  white 
arms  round  his  neck  and  sank  on  his  breast,  lost 
in  transport  and  emotion.  Her  soul  woke  up,  as  it 
were,  from  long  repose  and  glowed  with  deep  feeling. 
The  immortal  beauties  of  this  poem  cast  a  radiance 
over  every  hour  of  the  day,  over  her  language,  nay, 
over  her  bearing.  She  took  pleasure  in  trying  to  read 
aloud  herself,  and  the  Professor  listened  with  heartfelt 
pleasure  as  the  majestic  verses  rolled  melodiously 
from  her  lips,  and  as  she  unconsciously  imitated  his 
mode  of  speech  and  the  modulations  of  his  voice. 
When  in  the  morning  he  went  to  his  lecture  and  she 
helped  him  to  put  on  his  brown  duffel  overcoat  he  was 
greeted  with  the  pleasant  rhythm  of  this  hexameter  : 

"  Purple  and  rough  was  the  coat  of  the  cunning  and  noble  Ulysses." 


AMONG    THE    LEARNED.  273 

And  when  she  sat  opposite  to  him  during  her  hour 
of  instruction  and  he  came  to  a  pause,  these  words  of 
admiration  broke  from  her  lips  : 

"Thus  thou  cleverly  thinkest,  and  wisely  speakest  them  always." 

And  when  she  wished  to  praise  herself,  she  mur- 
mured to  the  singing  of  the  boiling  kettle  : 

"  Even  in  me  lives  wit,  to  discover  the  good  from  the  evil, 
Formerly  though  I  was  but  a  child." 

Even  the  estate  of  her  dear  father  now  seemed  to 
her  illuminated  with  the  golden  splendor  of  the  Hellenic 
sun. 

"I  do  not  understand,"  said  her  father  one  even- 
ing to  Clara,  "how  it  is  possible  that  Use  should  so 
quickly  have  forgotten  our  farming  customs.  In  her 
letters  she  speaks  of  the  time  when  the  cattle  shall 
again  wander  in  the  wide  plains ;  she  means,  I  sup- 
pose, the  fallow  fields ;  for  we  feed  our  cattle  in  the 

stalls." 

* 
*  * 

The  north  wind  howled  round'the  two  neighboring 
houses,  and  covered  the  window  panes  with  ice  flowers ; 
but  within  doors  one  day  followed  the  other  with  varied 
coloring  and  full  of  light,  and  each  evening,  more  en- 
joyable than  the  other,  passed  over  the  heads  of  the 
happy  couple,  whether  they  were  alone  or  whether 
the  friends  of  the  husband,  the  instructors  of  the  peo- 
ple, sat  with  them  at  the  tea-table  where  a  simple 
meal  was  spread. 

For  the  friends  of  the  husband  and  their  clever 
conversations  are  pleasant  to  the  lady  of  the  house. 
The  lamp  throws  a  festive  light  in  Use's  chamber,  the 
curtains  are  drawn,  the  table  well-furnished,  and  a 
decanter  of  wine  is  placed  on  it  when  the  gentlemen 
enter.  Frequently  the  conversation  begins  with  trifles ; 


274  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

the  friends  wish  to  show  their  esteem  for  the  Pro- 
fessor's wife — one  talks  a  little  about  concerts  and  an- 
other recommends  a  new  picture  or  book.  But  some- 
times they  come  out  from  the  study  in  eager  conver- 
sation ;  their  discourse  is  not  always  quite  within  her 
comprehension,  nor  always  very  attractive,  but  on  the 
whole  it  gives  her  pleasure  and  refreshes  her  mind. 
Then  Use  sits  quietly  there,  her  hands,  which  have 
been  active  in  her  work,  fall  into  her  lap,  and  she 
listens  reverently.  No  one  who  is  not  a  professor's 
wife  can  have  any  idea  how  charmingly  the  conversa- 
tion of  the  learned  flows.  All  can  speak  well,  all  are 
eager,  and  all  have  a  composed  manner  that  becomes 
them  well.  Discussion  arises  and  they  begin  to  argue 
on  weighty  points,  their  opinions  clash,  they  contra- 
dict each  other,  one  says  that  something  is  black,  an- 
other that  it  is  white  ;  the  first  shows  that  he  is  in  the 
right  and  the  second  refutes  him  and  drives  him  into 
a  corner.  Now  his  wife  thinks,  how  will  he  get  out  of 
this;  but  she  need  have  no  anxiety,  he  is  not  at  a 
loss — by  a  sudden  sally  he  gains  the  advantage  ;  then 
the  other  comes  with  new  reasons  and  carries  the  mat- 
ter still  further,  and  the  others  join  in,  they  become 
eager  and  their  voices  are  raised,  and  whether  at  last 
they  convince  one  another  or  each  remains  of  his  own 
opinion — which  is  frequently  the  case — it  is  always  a 
pleasure  to  see  light  thrown  on  difficult  questions  from 
all  sides.  If  one  of  them  has  said  something  really 
important  and  arrived  at  the  heart  of  the  matter,  it 
puts  them  all  into  an  elevated  mood  ;  it  seems  as  if  a 
supernatural  light  had  burst  in  on  them.  But  the 
cleverest  of  all,  and  he  whose  opinion  is  listened  to 
with  the  greatest  respect,  is  always  the  dear  husband 
of  the  lady  of  the  house. 


AMONG    THE    LEARNED.  275 

Use,  however,  remarked  that  all  the  learned  gentle- 
men had  not  the  same  amiable  character.  Some 
could  not  bear  opposition  and  seemed  in  weak  mo- 
ments to  consider  their  own  importance  more  than  the 
advancement  of  truth.  Again,  one  would  only  speak 
and  would  not  listen,  and  narrowed  the  conversation 
by  always  returning  to  the  point  which  the  others  had 
already  surmounted.  She  discovered  that  even  an 
unlearned  woman  could,  from  the  discourse  of  the  wise 
men,  discern  something  of  their  character  ;  and  when 
the  guests  were  gone  she  ventured  to  express  a  mod- 
est judgment  upon  the  learning  and  character  of  in- 
dividuals, and  she  was  proud  when  Felix  allowed  that 
she  had  judged  rightly. 

In  such  conversations  the  wife  of  the  scholar  learned 
much  that  to  other  women  remained  incomprehen- 
sible. Thus,  for  instance,  there  were  the  Roman  ple- 
beians. Few  women  understand  what  they  were.  The 
old  plebeians  never  gave  tea-parties,  never  played  on 
grand  pianos,  never  wore  hoop  skirts  and  never  read 
French  novels.  This  class  is  a  very  odious  institu- 
tion which  has  been  buried  in  the  ruins  of  antiquity. 
But  the  wife  of  a  philologist  is  informed  concerning 
all  this.  It  would  be  impossible  to  recount  all  that 
Use  heard  about  plebeians  and  patricians.  Silently 
she  sympathized  with  the  plebeians.  She  entirely  re- 
pudiated the  idea  that  they  consisted  of  insignificant 
people  and  a  wanton  rabble,  and  considered  them  to 
be  sturdy  farmers  and  fearless  politicians  who,  in  uni- 
son, valiantly  fought  against  the  unjust  patricians  to 
the  very  end.  In  connection  with  this  she  thought  of 
her  father,  and  at  times  wondered  whether  some  of 
her  acquaintances  would  not  have  been  plebeians  had 
they  been  Romans.  - 


276  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

The  gentlemen  were  very  friendly  to  her  and  al- 
most all  had  one  quality  which  made  their  intercourse 
very  pleasant — they  were  always  willing  to  explain. 
At  first  Use  did  not  like  to  admit  that  she  knew  noth- 
ing of  many  subjects;  but  one  evening  she  seated  her- 
self by  her  husband  and  began  :  "I  have  come  to  one 
conclusion.  Hitherto  I  have  been  afraid  to  ask  ques- 
tions, not  because  I  was  ashamed  of  my  ignorance, 
why  should  I  be?  but  on  your  account,  that  people 
might  not  remark  what  a  silly  wife  you  have.  But  if 
you  approve  of  it  I  will  now  do  quite  otherwise,  for  I 
observe  that  they  take  pleasure  in  talking  and  will  be 
willing  to  favor  me  with  a  'winged  word,'  as  Homer 
says." 

"  Just  so,"  said  the  husband  ;  "  they  will  like  you 
the  better  the  more  interest  you  take  in  them." 

"I  should  like  to  know  everything  about  the  whole 
world,  in  order  to  become  like  you.  But  I  feel  that 
I  sadly  lack  the  ability  to  comprehend  it  all." 

The  new  plan  turned  out  admirably.  Use  soon 
learnt  that  it  was  easier  to  persuade  her  friends  to  talk 
than  to  desist  from  it.  For  they  explained  to  her  con- 
scientiously and  at  great  length  what  she  wished  to 
learn  ;  but  they  sometimes  forgot  that  the  capacity  of 
a  woman  who  is  receiving  new  impressions  is  not  so 
fully  developed  as  their  own  art  of  teaching. 

They  seemed  to  her  to  hover  like  gods  over  the 
earth.  But  they  partook  of  the  lot  of  the  ambrosial 
society,  for  the  pure  peace  which  they  infused  into 
the  hearts  of  mortals  did  not  always  prevail  among 
themselves.  It  was  Use's  fate  that  soon  after  her  ar- 
rival, when  she  was  beginning  to  feel  at  home,  a  vehe- 
ment feud  broke  out  among  the  immortals  of  Olympus. 

On  a  dark  winter's  day  the  stormy  wind  beatheav- 


AMONG    THE    LEARNED.  277 

ily  against  the  window,  concealing  the  adjacent  wood 
behind  clouds  of  driving  snow.  Use  heard  in  her  hus- 
band's room  the  sharp  tones  of  Professor  Struvelius 
amid  a  weighty  flow  of  eloquence,  and  at  intervals  the 
long  and  earnest  talk  of  her  husband.  She  could  not 
distinguish  the  words,  but  the  sound  of  the  two  voices 
was  similar  to  the  whir  of  bird's  wings  or  the  rival 
singing  of  the  thrush  and  the  ill-omened  crow.  The 
conversation  continued  a  long  time  and  Use  wondered 
that  Struvelius  should  speak  at  such  length.  When 
at  last  he  was  gone,  Felix  entered  her  room  at  an  un- 
usual hour  and  paced  silently  up  and  down  for  some 
time,  occupied  in  deep  thought.  At  last  he  began 
abruptly  : 

' '  I  am  placed  in  a  position  that  obliges  me  to  commu- 
nicate with  my  colleagues  regarding  our  manuscript." 

Use  looked  up  at  him  inquiringly.  Since  her  mar- 
riage there  had  been  no  talk  about  Tacitus. 

"  I  thought  it  was  your  intention  not  to  speak  again 
of  it  to  strangers." 

"I  have  unwillingly  broken  my  silence.  I  had  no 
choice  but  to  be  frank  with  my  associate.  The  prov- 
ince of  Science  is  extensive  and  it  does  not  often  hap- 
pen that  associates  in  the  same  university  pitch  upon 
the  same  work.  Nay,  for  obvious  reasons,  they  avoid 
competition.  If,  therefore,  by  accident  such  a  coin- 
cidence occurs,  the  most  delicate  consideration  should 
be  mutually  shown  by  members  of  the  same  institu- 
tion. To-day  Struvelius  told  me  that  he  knew  I  had 
been  occupied  with  Tacitus  and  he  requested  some 
particulars  of  me.  He  asked  me  about  the  manuscripts 
that  I  had  seen  and  collated  years  ago  in  other  coun- 
tries and  about  the  fac-simile  of  the  characters  I  had 
made  for  myself." 


278  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

"Then  you  imparted  to  him  what  you  knew?"  in- 
quired Use. 

"I  gave  him  what  I  possessed,  as  a  matter  of 
course,"  replied  the  Professor.  "For  whatever  he 
may  do  with  it  is  sure  to  be  a  gain  to  learning." 

"Then  he  will  make  use  of  your  labors  for  the  ad- 
vancement of  his  own  !  Now  he  will  appear  before  the 
world  in  your  plumes,"  lamented  Use. 

"Whether  he  will  make  proper  use  of  what  has 
been  given  him,  or  misuse  it,  is  his  affair ;  it  is  my 
duty  to  have  confidence  in  the  honor  of  a  respectable 
colleague.  That  I  did  not  for  a  moment  doubt ;  but, 
indeed,  another  idea  occurred  to  me.  He  was  not 
quite  open  with  me  :  he  acknowledged  that  he  was 
occupied  with  a  criticism  of  certain  passages  of  Taci- 
tus ;  but  I  feel  sure  that  he  concealed  the  most  impor- 
tant particulars  from  me.  Nothing  then  remained  to 
me  but  to  tell  him  plainly  that  I  had  long  had  a  warm 
interest  in  that  author,  and  that  since  last  summer  I 
had  been  the  more  attracted  to  him  by  the  possibility 
of  a  new  discovery.  So  I  showed  him  the  account 
which  first  brought  me  into  your  neighborhood.  He 
is  a  philologist,  like  myself,  and  knows  now  of  what 
great  importance  this  author  is  to  me." 

"  My  only  consolation  is,"  said  Use,  "that  if  Stru- 
velius  wishes  to  disinter  the  manuscript  in  our  place, 
a  hard  fate  awaits  him  at  the  hands  of  my  sensible 
father." 

The  thought  of  the  defiance  of  his  stern  father-in- 
law  was  consoling  to  the  Professor,  and  he  laughed. 

"On  this  point  I  am  safe;  but  what  can  he  want 
with  Tacitus  ? — his  department  was  formerly  not  con- 
cerned with  the  historians.  It  can  scarcely  be  imag- 
ined. But  the  most  improbable  things  happen  !  Has, 


AMONG   THE    LEARNED.  279 

perhaps,  the  lost  manuscript,  by  any  accident,  been 
found  and  got  into  his  hands?  But  it  is  folly  to  worry 
about  that." 

He  strode  vehemently  up  and  down,  and,  shaking 
his  wife's  hand  with  great  emotion,  exclaimed  at  last : 

"It  is  so  vexatious  to  find  oneself  mastered  by 
selfish  feelings." 

He  again  went  to  his  work  and  when  Use  gently 
opened  the  door  she  saw  him  busy  writing.  Toward 
evening,  however,  when  she  looked  after  his  lamp  and 
announced  the  arrival  of  the  Doctor,  he  was  sitting 
leaning  his  head  on  his  hand  in  moody  thought.  She 
stroked  his  hair  gently  but  he  scarcely  noticed  it. 

The  Doctor  did  not  take  the  affair  so  much  to 
heart ;  but  was  very  angry,  both  at  the  secret  dealings 
of  the  other  and  at  the  magnanimity  of  his  friend,  and 
a  lively  discussion  ensued. 

"May  you  never  regret  this  frank  action  on  your 
part  !  "  exclaimed  the  Doctor.  "  The  man  will  coin 
money  from  your  silver.  Believe  me,  he  will  play  you 
a  trick." 

"After  all,"  concluded  the  Professor  thoughtfully, 
"it  is  not  worth  while  to  excite  myself  about  it. 
Should  he,  by  any  improbable  and  unforeseen  acci- 
dent, really  have  come  into  possession  of  something 
new,  he  has  a  right  to  all  the  materials  at  hand — both 
to  what  I  have  collected  and  to  my  assistance,  so  far 
as  it  is  in  my  power  to  give  it.  If  he  is  only  exer- 
cising his  critical  acumen  on  the  existing  text,  all  he 
may  be  able  to  accomplish  will  be  insignificant  as  com- 
pared with  our  childlike  expectations." 

Thus  imperceptibly  and  harmlessly  did  this  cloud 
arise  on  the  academical  horizon. 

A  month  had  passed,  and  the  Professor  had  often 


280  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

met  his  colleague.  It  could  not  be  deemed  strange 
that  Struvelius  never  let  the  name  of  Tacitus  pass  his 
silent  lips  ;  nevertheless,  the  Professor  watched  the 
conduct  of  his  colleague  with  concern,  for  he  thought 
he  noticed  that  the  other  avoided  him. 

One  quiet  evening  Felix  Werner  was  sitting  with 
Use  and  the  Doctor  at  the  tea-table,  when  Gabriel 
entered  and  laid  a  small  pamphlet,  wrapped  in  a  com- 
mon newspaper,  before  the  Professor.  The  Professor 
tore  off  the  cover,  glanced  at  the  title,  and  silently 
handed  the  pamphlet  to  the  Doctor.  The  Latin  title 
of  the  book,  translated,  was  this:  "A  Fragment  of 
Tacitus  ;  Being  a  Trace  of  a  Lost  Manuscript.  Com- 
municated by  Dr.  Friedobald  Struvelius,  etc."  With- 
out saying  a  word  the  friends  rose  and  carried  the 
treatise  into  the  Professor's  study.  Use  remained  be- 
hind, startled.  She  heard  her  husband  reading  the 
Latin  text  aloud  and  perceived  that  he  was  compel- 
ling himself  to  master  his  excitement  by  slow  and 
firm  reading.  The  story  of  this  fatal  writing  must  not 
be  withheld  from  the  reader. 

Older  contemporaries  of  the  period  in  which  to- 
bacco was  smoked  in  pipes,  know  the  value  of  the 
twisted  paper-lighter,  an  invention  which  was  com- 
monly called  a  fidibus;  they  know  the  normal  length 
and  breadth  of  such  a  strip  of  paper  which  our  fathers 
formerly  used  to  make  out  of  musty  old  records.  Such 
a  strip,  certainly  not  of  paper,  but  cut  from  a  sheet  of 
parchment,  had  fallen  into  the  hands  of  the  author. 
But  the  strip  had  previously  undergone  a  hard  fate. 
Two  hundred  years  before  it  had  been  glued  by  a  book- 
binder on  the  back  of  a  thick  volume,  to  strengthen 
the  binding,  and  he  had  for  this  object  covered  it 
thickly  with  glue.  On  the  removal  of  the  glue  there 


AMONG    THE    LEARNED.  281 

appeared  characters  of  an  old  monk's  writing.  The 
word  Amen  and  some  holy  names  made  it  certain  that 
what  was  written  had  served  to  promote  Christian 
piety.  But  under  this  monk's  writing  other  and  larger 
Latin  characters  were  visible,  very  faded,  indeed  al- 
most entirely  defaced,  from  which  one  could,  with 
some  difficulty,  distinguish  the  Roman  name  Piso. 
Now,  Professor  Struvelius  had,  by  perseverance,  and 
by  the  employment  of  certain  chemicals,  made  it  pos- 
sible to  read  this  under-writing,  and  from  the  form  of 
the  characters  he  saw  that  it  was  a  work  of  antiquity. 
But  as  the  parchment  fidibus  was  only  a  piece  cut 
from  an  entire  sheet,  it  naturally  did  not  contain  com- 
plete sentences,  only  single  words,  which  fell  on  the 
soul  of  the  reader  like  the  lost  notes  of  distant  music 
borne  by  the  wind  to  the  ear  :  no  melody  could  be 
made  from  it.  It  was  that  which  had  attracted  the 
author.  He  had  ascertained  and  filled  in  the  dis- 
jointed words  and  guessed  at  the  whole  of  the  remain- 
ing leaf.  By  the  wonderful  application  of  great  learn- 
ing, he  had,  from  a  few  shadowy  spots  of  the  fidibus, 
restored  the  whole  page  of  a  parchment  writing,  as  it 
might  have  read  twelve  hundred  years  ago.  It  was  an 
astonishing  work. 

The  most  distinctly  written  of  the  characters  on  this 
strip  of  parchment,  though  scarcely  legible  to  the 
common  eye,  was  the  name  of  Pontifex  Piso — literally 
translated,  Peas  the  Bridgemaker.  The  parchment 
strip  appeared  very  much  concerned  about  Peas,  for 
the  name  occurred  several  times.  But  the  editor  had 
shown  from  this  name,  and  from  fragments  of  de- 
stroyed words,  that  the  strip  of  parchment  was  the 
last  remains  of  a  manuscript  of  Tacitus,  and  that  the 
words  belonged  to  a  lost  portion  of  the  Annals  ;  and 


282  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

he  had  at  last  proved  from  the  character  of  the  shad- 
owy letters  that  the  strip  of  parchment  did  not  belong 
to  any  extant  manuscript  of  the  Roman,  but  that  it 
was  a  part  of  one  quite  unknown,  which  had  been  de- 
stroyed. 

After  reading  the  treatise  the  friends  sat  gloomy 
and  thoughtful.  At  last  the  Doctor  exclaimed  : 

"  How  unfriendly  to  conceal  this  from  you,  and 
yet  to  call  upon  you  for  assistance." 

' '  That  signifies  little, "  replied  the  Professor.  ' '  But 
I  cannot  approve  of  the  work  itself ;  hypercritical 
acuteness  is  applied  to  an  uncertain  matter,  and  ob- 
jections might  be  made  against  much  that  he  has  re- 
stored and  supposed.  But  why  do  you  not  say  openly 
what  interests  us  both  much  more  than  the  mistakes 
of  a  whimsical  man?  We  are  on  the  track  of  a  manu- 
script of  Tacitus,  and  here  we  find  a  fragment  of  such  a 
manuscript,  which  has  been  cut  up  by  a  bookbinder 
after  the  Thirty  Years'  War.  The  gain  which  might  ac- 
crue to  our  knowledge  from  this  little  fragment  is  so 
insignificant  that  it  would  not  pay  for  the  energy  ex- 
pended on  it,  being  a  matter  of  indifference  to  all  the 
world  except  to  us.  For,  my  friend,  if  a  manuscript  of 
Tacitus  has  really  been  cut  into  such  strips,  it  is  in 
all  probability  the  same  which  we  have  been  in  search 
of.  What  is  the  result  ?"  he  added,  bitterly.  "We 
free  ourselves  from  a  dreamy  vision  which  has  perhaps 
too  long  made  fools  of  us." 

"  How  can  this  parchment  be  a  part  of  the  manu- 
script of  our  friend  Bachhuber  ?  "  asked  the  Doctor  ; 
"many  prayers  have  been  written  here  over  the  old 
text." 

"Who  can  assure  us  that  the  monks  of  Rossau 
have  not  written  their  spiritual  aspirations  over  at 


AMONG    THE    LEARNED.  283 

least  some  faded  sheets  ?  It  is  not  usual,  but  never- 
theless possible." 

"Above  all,  you  must  see  Struvelius's  parchment 
strip  yourself,"  said  the  Doctor,  decidedly.  "  An  ac- 
curate examination  may  explain  much." 

"It  is  not  agreeable  to  me  to  speak  to  him  about 
it,  yet  I  shall  do  so  to-morrow." 

The  day  following  the  Professor  entered  the  room 
of  his  colleague  Struvelius  more  composedly. 

"  You  can  imagine."  he  began,  "  that  I  have  read 
your  treatise  with  especial  interest.  After  what  I  have 
communicated  to  you  concerning  an  unknown  manu- 
script of  Tacitus,  you  must  perceive  that  our  prospect 
of  discovering  this  manuscript  is  very  much  dimin- 
ished, if  the  strip  of  parchment  has  been  cut  from  the 
leaves  of  a  Tacitus  which  was  preserved  in  Germany 
two  hundred  years  ago." 

"  If  it  has  been  cut  ?  "  repeated  Struvelius,  sharply. 
"It  has  been  cut  from  it.  And  what  you  have  com- 
municated to  me  about  this  concealed  treasure  at  Ros- 
sau  was  very  indefinite  and  I  am  not  of  the  opin'ion 
that  much  value  is  to  be  attached  to  it.  If,  in  reality, 
there  was  a  manuscript  of  Tacitus  in  existence  there, 
it  has  undoubtedly  been  cut  up,  and  this  ends  the 
question." 

"If  such  a  manuscript  was  in  existence  there?" 
retorted  Felix.  "  It  was  in  existence.  But  I  have 
come  to  request  you  to  show  me  the  parchment  leaf. 
Since  the  contents  have  been  published  there  can  be 
no  objection  to  it." 

Struvelius  looked  embarrassed  and  answered  :  "I 
regret  that  I  cannot  meet  your  wishes,  which  are  cer- 
tainly quite  justifiable,  but  I  am  no  longer  in  posses- 
sion of  the  strip." 


284  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

"To  whom  am  I  to  apply?"  asked  the  Professor, 
surprised. 

"Even  upon  that  point  I  am  at  present  obliged  to 
be  silent." 

"That  is  strange,"  exclaimed  Felix  ;  "and  forgive 
me  for  speaking  plainly,  it  is  worse  than  unfriendly. 
For  be  the  importance  of  this  fragment  great  or  little, 
it  ought  not  to  be  withdrawn  from  the  eyes  of  others 
after  the  publication  of  its  contents.  It  is  incumbent 
upon  you  to  enable  others  to  prove  the  correctness  of 
your  restoration  of  the  text." 

"That  I  allow,"  replied  Struvelius.  "But  I  am 
not  in  a  position  to  enable  you  to  see  this  strip." 

"  Have  you  sufficiently  considered,"  exclaimed  the 
Professor,  excitedly,  "that  by  this  refusal  you  expose 
yourself  to  the  misinterpretation  of  strangers,  to 
charges  which  never  ought  to  be  brought  in  contact 
with  your  name  ?  " 

"  I  consider  myself  quite  capable  of  being  the 
keeper  of  my  own  good  name  and  must  beg  of  you  to 
leave  its  care  entirely  in  my  hands. " 

"Then  I  have  nothing  further  to  say  to  you,"  re- 
plied Felix,  and  went  toward  the  door. 

In  going  he  observed  that  the  middle  door  opened, 
and  the  Professor's  wife,  alarmed  at  the  loud  tones  of 
the  speakers,  made  her  appearance  like  a  good  spirit, 
with  her  hands  stretched  imploringly  toward  him.  But 
he,  after  a  hurried  salutation,  closed  the  door  and 
went  angrily  home. 

The  cloud  had  gathered  and  the  heavens  were 
darkened.  The  Professor  once  more  took  up  the  treat- 
ise of  his  ungracious  colleague.  It  was  as  if  a  moun- 
tain-lion, wildly  shaking  his  mane,  had  dashed  in  upon 
the  prey  of  a  lynx  or  fox,  and  wresting  the  booty  from 


AMONG    THE    LEARNED.  285 

the  clutches  of  the  weaker  animal,  ignominiously 
routed  him. 

Twice  Use  called  her  husband  to  dinner  in  vain  ; 
when  she  approached  his  chair  anxiously  she  saw  a 
disturbed  countenance.  "I  cannot  eat,"  he  said, 
abruptly;  "send  over  and  ask  Fritz  to  come  here  di- 
rectly. " 

Use,  alarmed,  sent  for  their  neighbor  and  seated 
herself  in  the  Professor's  room,  following  him  with 
her  eyes  as  he  strode  up  and  down.  "What  has  so 
excited  you,  Felix?"  she  asked,  anxiously. 

"I  beg  of  you,  dear  wife,  to  dine  without  me  to- 
day," he  said,  continuing  his  rapid  strides. 

The  Doctor  entered  hastily.  "The  fragment  is 
not  from  a  manuscript  of  Tacitus,"  said  the  Professor, 
to  his  friend. 

"  Vivat  Bachhuber  !  "  replied  he,  while  still  at  the 
door,  waving  his  hat. 

"There  is  no  reason  to  rejoice,"  interrupted  the 
Professor,  gloomily;  "the  fragment,  wherever  it  may 
have  come  from,  contains  a  passage  of  Tacitus." 

"It  must  have  come  from  some  place,"  said  the 
Doctor. 

"No,"  cried  the  Professor,  loudly;  "the  whole  is 
a  forgery.  The  upper  part  of  the  text  contains  words 
put  together  at  random  and  the  attempts  of  the  editor 
to  bring  them  into  a  rational  connection  are  not  happy. 
The  lower  portion  of  the  so-called  fragment  has  been 
transcribed  from  one  of  the  old  fathers,  who  has  intro- 
duced a  hitherto  unobserved  sentence  of  Tacitus.  The 
forger  has  written  certain  words  of  this  quotation 
under  one  another  on  the  parchment  strip,  regularly 
omitting  the  words  lying  between.  This  cannot  be 
doubted." 


286  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

He  led  the  Doctor,  who  now  looked  as  much  per- 
plexed as  himself,  to  his  books,  and  demonstrated  to 
him  the  correctness  of  his  statement. 

"  The  forger  gathered  his  learning  from  the  printed 
text  of  the  father,  for  he  has  been  clumsy  enough  to 
transcribe  an  error  in  the  print  made  by  the  compos- 
itor. So  there  is  an  end  of  the  parchment  sheet  and 
of  a  German  scholar  also  !  " 

He  took  out  his  handkerchief  to  dry  the  perspira- 
tion on  his  forehead  and  threw  himself  into  a  chair. 

"  Hold  !  "  exclaimed  the  Doctor.  "  Here  the  honor 
and  reputation  of  a  scholar  are  concerned.  Let  us  once 
more  examine  calmly  whether  this  may  not  be  an  acci- 
dental coincidence." 

"Try,  if  you  can,"  said  the  Professor;  "I  have 
done  with  it." 

The  Doctor  long  and  anxiously  collated  the  re- 
stored text  of  Struvelius  with  the  printed  words  of  the 
father. 

At  last  he  said  sorrowfully  :  "What  Struvelius  has 
restored  agrees  with  the  sense  and  tenor  of  the  words 
of  the  father  so  remarkably,  that  one  cannot  help  con- 
sidering the  slight  variation  in  the  words  of  his  resto- 
ration as  a  cunning  concealment  of  his  acquaintance 
with  the  quotation  ;  but  still  it  is  not  impossible  that 
by  good  luck  and  acuteness  a  person  might  arrive  at 
the  true  connection,  as  he  found  it." 

"I  do  not  doubt  for  a  moment  that  Struvelius 
made  the  restoration  honorably  and  in  good  faith," 
replied  the  Professor  ;  "but  still  his  position  is  as  an- 
noying as  possible.  Deceiver  or  deceived,  the  unfortu- 
nate treatise  is  a  terrible  humiliation,  not  only  for  him 
but  for  our  University." 

"  The  words  of  the   parchment  strip  itself,"  con- 


AMONG    THE    LEARNED.       ,  287 

tinued  the  Doctor,  "are  undoubtedly  transcribed  and 
undoubtedly  a  forgery  ;  and  it  is  your  duty  to  reveal 
the  true  state  of  the  case." 

"The  duty  of  my  husband  !  "  exclaimed  Use,  ris- 
ing. 

"Of  him  who  has  discovered  the  forgery,  and  if 
Struvelius  were  his  most  intimate  friend,  Felix  would 
have  to  do  it." 

"Explain  it  first  to  him,"  implored  Use.  "Do  not 
treat  him  as  he  has  treated  you.  If  he  has  been  in 
error  let  him  repair  it  himself." 

The  Professor  reflected  a  moment  and  nodding  to 
his  friend  said  :  "She  is  right."  He  hastened  to  the 
table  and  wrote  to  Professor  Struvelius,  expressing 
a  wish  to  speak  to  him  immediately  on  an  important 
subject.  He  gave  the  letter  to  Gabriel  and  his  heart 
felt  lighter  ;  he  was  now  ready  to  enjoy  his  dinner. 

Use  begged  the  Doctor  to  remain  with  her  hus- 
band and  endeavored  to  lead  their  thoughts  to  other 
subjects.  She  took  a  letter  from  Mrs.  Rollmaus  from 
her  pocket,  in  which  the  latter  begged  Use  to  send 
her  something  profound  to  read,  selected  by  the  Pro- 
fessor;  and  Use  expressed  a  wish  that  they  might  thus 
make  some  return  for  the  partridges  and  other  game 
that  Mrs.  Rollmaus  had  sent  to  them.  This  helped 
in  some  degree  to  cast  the  sanguinary  thoughts  of  the 
gloomy  men  into  the  background.  At  last  she  pro- 
duced a  huge  round  sausage,  which  Mrs.  Rollmaus 
had  especially  destined  for  the  Doctor,  and  placed  it 
on  the  table.  When  they  looked  at  the  sausage  as  it 
lay  there  so  peaceable  and  comfortable  in  its  ample 
dimensions,  encircled  by  a  blue  ribbon,  it  was  impos- 
sible not  to  acknowledge  that,  in  spite  of  false  appear- 
ances and  empty  presumption,  there  was  still  some- 


288  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

thing  sterling  to  be  found  on  earth.  As  they  contem- 
plated the  good  solid  dish,  their  hearts  softened,  and 
a  gentle  smile  betrayed  their  natural  human  weakness. 

There  was  a  ring  at  the  door  and  Professor  Stru- 
velius  made  his  appearance.  The  Professor  collected 
himself  and  went  with  firm  steps  into  his  room  ;  the 
Doctor  went  quietly  away,  promising  to  return  again 
shortly. 

It  must  have  been  apparent  to  Struvelius,  after  a 
glance  at  his  colleague,  that  their  last  conversation 
was  doomed  to  throw  a  shadow  over  their  present 
meeting,  for  he  looked  frightened  and  his  hair  stood 
on  end.  The  Professor  laid  before  him  the  printed 
passage  of  the  old  monk  and  only  added  these  words : 
"This  passage  has  possibly  escaped  you." 

"It  has,  indeed,"  exclaimed  Struvelius,  and  sat  for 
some  time  poring  over  it.  "I  ought  to  be  satisfied 
with  this  confirmation,"  he  said  at  last,  looking  up 
from  the  folio. 

But  the  Professor  laid  his  finger  on  the  book,  say- 
ing : 

"An  extraordinary  typographical  error  in  this  edi- 
tion has  been  copied  into  the  text  of  the  parchment 
strip  which  you  have  restored — an  error  which  is  cor- 
rected at  the  end  of  the  book.  The  words  of  the 
parchment  strip  are  thus  partly  put  together  from  this 
printed  passage  and  are  a  forgery." 

Struvelius  remained  mute,  but  he  was  much 
alarmed,  and  looked  anxiously  upon  the  contracted 
brow  of  his  colleague. 

"  It  will  now  be  to  your  interest  to  give  the  neces- 
sary explanations  concerning  this  forgery  to  the  pub- 
lic." 

"A  forgery  is  impossible,"  retorted  Struvelius,  in- 


AMONG    THE    LEARNED.  289 

cautiously.      "  I  myself  removed  the  old  glue  that  cov- 
ered the  text  from  the  parchmeut." 

"Yet  you  tell  me  that  the  strip  is  not  in  your  pos- 
session. You  will  believe  that  it  is  no  pleasure  to  me 
to  enter  the  ranks  against  a  colleague ;  therefore  you 
yourself  must  without  delay  make  the  whole  matter 
public.  For  it  stands  to  reason  the  forgery  must  be 
made  known." 

Struvelius  reflected. 

"I  take  for  granted  that  you  speak  with  the  best 
intentions,"  he  began  at  last,  "but  I  am  firmly  con- 
vinced that  the  parchment  is  genuine,  and  I  must  leave 
it  to  you  to  do  what  you  consider  your  duty.  If  you 
choose  to  attack  your  colleague  publicly,  I  shall  do  my 
best  to  bear  it." 

Having  said  this,  Struvelius  went  away  obdurate, 
but  much  disquieted,  and  matters  took  their  evil 
course.  Use  saw  with  sorrow  how  severely  her  hus- 
band suffered  from  the  obstinacy  of  his  colleague. 
The  Professor  set  to  work  and  published  a  short  state- 
ment of  the  affair  in  the  classical  magazine  to  which 
he  contributed.  He  introduced  the  fatal  passage  of 
the  monk,  and  forbearingly  expressed  his  regret  that 
the  acute  author  of  the  pamphlet  had  thus  been  im- 
posed upon  by  a  forgery. 

This  decisive  condemnation  created  a  tremendous 
sensation  in  the  University.  Like  a  disturbed  swarm 
of  bees,  the  colleagues  moved  about  confusedly.  Stru- 
velius had  but  few  warm  friends,  but  he  had  no  oppo- 
rjents.  It  is  true  that  in  the  first  few  days  after  this 
literary  condemnation,  he  was  considered  as  done  for. 
But  he  himself  was  not  of  this  opinion  and  composed 
a  rejoinder.  In  this  he  boasted,  not  without  self  com- 
placency, of  the  satisfactory  confirmation  of  his  resto- 


2QO  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

ration  by  the  passage  in  the  monk's  writing,  which  he 
had  undoubtedly  overlooked  ;  he  treated  the  coinci- 
dence of  the  error  in  printing  with  that  in  his  parch- 
ment as  an  extraordinary,  but  in  no  ways  unheard  of 
accident;  and  finally,  he  did  not  scruple  to  cast  some 
sharp,  covert  hints  at  other  scholars,  who  considered 
certain  authors  as  their  own  peculiar  domain,  and  de- 
spised a  small  accidental  discovery,  though  an  un- 
prejudiced judge  could  not  hope  for  a  greater. 

This  offensive  allusion  to  the  hidden  manuscript 
cut  the  Professor  to  the  quick,  but  he  proudly  dis- 
dained to  enter  into  any  further  contest  before  the 
public.  The  rejoinder  of  Struvelius  was  certainly  un- 
successful ;  but  it  had  the  effect  of  giving  courage  to 
those  members  of  the  University  who  were  ill-disposed 
toward  Felix  to  join  the  side  of  his  opponent.  The 
thing  was,  at  all  events,  doubtful,  they  said,  and  it 
was  contrary  to  good  fellowship  to  accuse  a  colleague 
openly  of  such  a  great  oversight;  the  assailant  might 
have  left  it  to  others  to  do  so.  But  the  better  portion 
of  the  leading  members  of  the  University  contended 
from  the  camp  of  the  Professor  against  these  weak 
ones.  Some  of  the  most  distinguished,  among  them 
all  those  who  assembled  at  Use's  tea-table,  determined 
that  the  affair  should  not  drop.  In  fact,  the  quarrel 
was  so  unfavorable  to  Struvelius,  that  it  was  seriously 
represented  to  him  that  he  was  bound  in  honor  to  give 
some  kind  of  explanation  of  the  parchment ;  but  he 
kept  silent  against  this  array  of  propositions  as  best 
he  could. 

Even  the  evenings  in  Use's  room  assumed  from  this 
circumstance  a  warlike  character.  Their  most  intimate 
friends — the  Doctor,  the  Mineralogist,  and,  not  last, 
Raschke — sat  there  as  a  council  of  war,  consulting 


THE    PROFESSORS     BALL.  2QI 

against  the  enemy.  Raschke  acknowledged  one  even- 
ing that  he  had  just  been  with  the  obstinate  opponent 
and  had  implored  of  him,  at  least  to  contrive  that  a 
third  person  should  obtain  a  view  of  the  parchment. 
Struvelius  had  in  some  measure  relented  and  had  re- 
gretted that  he  had  promised  silence,  because  a  pros- 
pect had  been  held  out  to  him  of  obtaining  other  rare 
manuscripts.  Then  Raschke  had  conjured  him  to  re- 
nounce such  dubious  treasures  and  thus  to  buy  back 
freedom  of  speech.  It  must  clearly  have  been  an  ani- 
mated discussion,  for  Raschke  wiped  his  nose  and 
eyes  with  a  small  fringed  tea-napkin,  which  was  Use's 
pride,  and  put  it  into  his  pocket ;  and  when  Use  laugh- 
ingly reminded  him  of  his  theft,  he  brought  out  not 
only  the  napkin,  but  also  a  silk  pocket-handkerchief, 
which  he  maintained  must  also  belong  to  Use,  although 
it  was  evidently  the  property  of  some  gentleman  who 
took  snuff.  It  was,  therefore,  hinted  that  he  might 
have  brought  the  handkerchief  from  Struvelius's  room. 
"  Not  impossible, "  he  said,  "for  we  were  excited." 
The  strange  pocket-handkerchief  lay  on  a  chair  and 
was  looked  upon  by  the  party  present  with  frigid  and 
hostile  feelings. 

CHAPTER  XVI. 
THE  PROFESSORS'  BALL. 

THE  Professors'  ball  took  place  during  these  aca- 
demical disturbances.  It  was  the  only  festival  of  the 
year  which  gave  to  all  the  families  of  the  University 
the  opportunity  of  meeting  in  gay  society.  The  stu- 
dents and  town-acquaintances  were  also  invited.  The 
ball  was  an  important  event  in  the  city  and  invitations 
were  in  great  demand. 


292  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

An  academical  ball  is  something  quite  different 
from  other  balls ;  for  besides  all  the  merits  of  a  distin- 
guished meeting,  it  had  the  three  excellences  of  German 
scholarship — industry,  freedom,  and  indifference  :  in- 
dustry in  dancing,  even  in  the  case  of  the  gentlemen, 
freedom  in  agreeable  intercourse  between  young  and 
old,  and  indifference  to  uniforms  and  patent  leather 
pumps.  Of  course,  the  young  people  even  here  bore 
a  cosmopolitan  character,  for  the  same  modes  of 
dancing,  dresses,  nosegays,  and  courtesies,  glancing 
eyes  and  blushing  cheeks,  can  be  found  at  a  thousand 
similar  festivals  from  the  Neva  to  California  ;  but  any 
one  who  was  more  observant  might  perceive  in  the 
faces  of  many  of  the  girls  the  intellectual  eyes  and 
eloquent  lips  that  descended  to  them  from  their 
learned  fathers,  and  perhaps  certain  little  academical 
peculiarities  in  curls  and  ribbons.  The  old  saying 
which  came  from  a  past  generation  of  students,  that 
professors'  daughters  are  either  pretty  or  homely, 
commended  itself  here  also  to  the  notice  of  observers, 
the  ordinary  mixture  of  both  qualities  being  rare.  Be- 
sides a  few  officers  and  the  flower  of  the  city  youth, 
there  might  be  seen  among  the  dancers  here  and  there 
a  young  scholar,  thin  and  pale,  with  smooth  lank  hair, 
more  fitted  to  bend  thoughtfully  over  books  than  to 
float  about  in  the  giddy  dance.  But  what  gave  its 
value  to  this  festival  was,  not  the  young  people,  but 
the  middle  aged  gentlemen  and  ladies.  Among  the 
elderly  gentlemen  with  grey  hair  and  joyful  counte- 
nances who  stood  together  in  groups  or  sauntered 
pleasantly  among  the  ladies,  were  many  important 
faces,  with  delicate  features,  brisk,  animated,  and 
cheerful  demeanor.  Among  the  ladies  there  were  not 
a  few  who,  the  rest  of  the  year,  moved  noiselessly 


THE  PROFESSORS'  BALL.  293 

about  the  studies  of  their  husbands  and  the  nursery, 
and  who  now  saw  themselves  displayed  in  unwonted 
gala-dress  under  the  bright  glare  of  lights,  and  were 
as  shy  and  bashful  as  they  had  been  long  ago  in  their 
maiden  days. 

There  was  upon  this  occasion,  at  the  beginning  of 
the  festive  meeting,  an  evident  excitement  in  certain 
individual  groups.  Werner's  tea-party  had  taken  for 
granted  that  Struvelius  would  not  come.  But  he  was 
there.  He  stood  wrapt  in  thought,  with  his  usual  ab- 
sent look,  not  far  from  the  entrance,  and  Use  and  her 
husband  had  to  pass  him.  When  Use  walked  through 
the  ball-room  on  the  Professor's  arm,  she  saw  that  the 
eyes  of  many  were  directed  curiously  toward  her,  and 
a  heightened  color  rose  in  her  cheeks.  The  Professor 
led  her  up  to  the  wife  of  his  colleague  Giinther,  who 
had  agreed  to  remain  with  her  that  evening,  and  Use 
was  glad  when  she  found  herself  established  on  one 
of  the  raised  seats  next  to  the  vivacious  woman ;  and 
at  first  she  only  ventured  to  look  shyly  about.  But  the 
splendor  of  the  hall,  the  many  fine  people  who  moved 
about  in  it,  and  then  the  first  sounds  of  the  overture, 
raised  her  spirits.  She  now  ventured  to  look  more 
about  her  and  search  out  her  acquaintances  and,  above 
all,  her  dear  husband.  She  saw  him  standing  not  far 
from  the  door  of  the  room,  in  the  midst  of  his  friends 
and  fellow-professors,  towering  head  and  shoulders 
above  them.  She  saw  not  far  from  the  other  door  his 
opponent,  Struvelius,  standing  with  his  little  retinue, 
chiefly  of  students.  Thus  stood  these  men,  in  every 
way  divided,  honorably  restraining  the  angry  feelings 
of  their  bosoms.  Many  of  her  husband's  acquaint- 
ances came  up  to  Use  ;  amongst  others  the  Doctor, 
who  teased  her  because  she  had  been  so  afraid  that 


2Q4  THE    LOST   MANUSCRIPT. 

they  would  not  find  each  other  in  the  confusion  of 
strange  people.  The  Mineralogist  also  came  and  de- 
clared his  intention  of  asking  her  to  dance.  But  Use, 
earnestly  entreating  him,  said  :  • 

"  I  beg  of  you  not  to  do  it.  I  am  not  perfect  in 
these  new  city  dances,  and  you  would  not  get  on  well 
with  me  ;  I  had  rather  not  dance.  Besides,  it  is  not 
necessary,  for  I  am  in  a  very  gay  mood  and  it  amuses 
me  to  look  at  all  the  fine  people." 

Soon  various  strangers  approached  and  were  intro- 
duced to  her,  and  she  acquired  greater  ease  in  refus- 
ing to  dance. 

The  Historian  then  brought  his  daughter  up  to  her 
and  the  worthy  gentleman  at  last  placed  himself  near 
Use  and  talked  to  her  for  a  long  time  ;  she  felt  with 
pleasure  that  this  was  a  great  distinction.  Afterward 
she  ventured  to  move  some  steps  from  her  place  in 
order  to  ask  the  wife  of  Professor  Raschke  to  sit  by 
her.  Thus,  before  long,  a  charming  little  circle  of 
acquaintances  collected  about  her.  Pretty  Mrs.  Gun- 
ther  joked  pleasantly  and  gave  her  information  about 
the  strange  ladies  and  gentlemen.  The  wife  of  the 
Rector  also  came  up  and  said  she  must  sit  near  her, 
as  she  observed  that  all  were  so  merry  about  her.  And 
the  Rector's  wife  darted  glances  here  and  there  which 
attracted  one  gentleman  after  another  to  the  group ; 
and  all  who  wished  to  show  their  respect  for  the  wife  of 
the  University  president  paid  their  compliments  also  to 
the  wife  of  the  colleague.  There  was  a  coming  and  going 
all  around  her  like  a  fair,  and  Use  and  the  Rector's  wife 
sat  there  like  two  twin  stars,  the  brilliancy  of  one  in- 
creasing that  of  the  other.  All  went  well  and  charm- 
ingly. Use  was  delighted  beyond  measure,  and  there 
certainly  was  more  shaking  of  hands  in  her  vicinity 


THE  PROFESSORS'  BALL.  295 

than  comports  with  the  etiquette  of  a  ball.  When 
Felix  approached  her  once  and  looked  inquiringly  at 
her,  she  pressed  the  tips  of  his  fingers  gently  and  gave 
him  such  a  happy  smile  that  he  needed  no  further  an- 
swer. 

During  a  pause  Use  looked  along  the  sides  of  the 
room  and  perceived  the  wife  of  Professor  Struvelius 
on  the  opposite  side.  She  wore  a  very  dark  dress  and 
her  Sappho  lock  hung  seriously  and  sadly  from  her 
fine  head.  The  wife  of  her  husband's  enemy  looked 
pale  and  her  eyes  were  quietly  cast  down.  There  was 
something  in  the  beauty  of  the  lady  that  moved  Use's 
heart  and  she  felt  as  if  she  must  go  over  to  her.  She 
revolved  in  her  mind  whether  Felix  would  think  it 
right  and  was  afraid  of  meeting  with  a  cold  rejection; 
but  at  last  she  took  heart  and  walked  right  across  the 
room  up  to  the  learned  lady. 

She  had  no  idea  of  the  effect  produced  by  this  step. 
Use  had  attracted  much  more  attention  and  had  been 
much  more  sharply  watched  than  she  knew,  and  those 
present  were  more  occupied  with  the  quarrel  between 
the  two  professors  than  she  imagined.  As  she  now 
went  with  firm  step  up  to  the  other  lady  and  stretched 
out  her  hand,  even  before  she  reached  her,  there  was 
a  remarkable  stillness  in  the  room  and  many  eyes  were 
directed  to  both  ladies.  The  wife  of  Struvelius  rose 
stiffly,  descended  one  step  from  her  seat,  and  looked 
so  freezing  that  Use  became  nervous  and  could  scarcely 
frame  her  lips  even  into  the  every-day  inquiry  after 
her  health. 

"I  thank  you,"  replied  the  lady.  "I  do  not  enjoy 
noisy  gatherings.  It  is  perhaps  because  I  am  entirely 
deficient  in  all  the  necessary  qualifications,  for  people 
are  only  in  the  right  place  when  they  have  an  op- 


296  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

portunity  of  making  their  talents  in  some  way  avail- 
able." 

"As  to  my  talents,  they  will  go  for  nothing,"  said 
Use,  shyly;  "but  everything  is  new  to  me  here,  and 
therefore  it  entertains  me  much  to  look  on,  and  I 
would  like  to  see  everything." 

"  It  is  quite  a  different  thing  with  you,"  replied  the 
other,  coldly. 

Fortunately  this  embarrassed  conversation  was 
soon  interrupted,  for  the  wife  of  the  Consistorial 
Councilor  popped  into  the  group  like  a  curious  mag- 
pie in  order  to  mediate  philanthropically  or  to  take 
part  in  this  startling  scene.  She  broke  into  the  con- 
versation and  talked  for  a  short  time  on  indifferent 
subjects. 

Use  returned  to  her  place  much  chilled  and  a  little 
discontented  with  herself.  She  had  no  reason  for  it. 
Little  Mrs.  Gunther  said  to  her  gently  : 

"That  was  right,  and  I  am  much  pleased  with 
you." 

Professor  Raschke  darted  up  to  her  and  did  not 
allude  to  it,  but  he  called  her  constantly  his  dear  col- 
league's wife.  He  asked  her  anxiously  whether  he  could 
not  bring  her  something  good — tea  or  lemonade.  He 
admiringly  took  the  finely  carved  fan  that  Laura  had 
pressed  upon  her  from  her  hand  and  placed  it  in  the 
breast-pocket  of  his  coat  for  safe  keeping.  Then  he 
began  to  amuse  her  by  telling  her  how,  as  a  student, 
to  please  his  wife,  he  had  taught  himself  to  dance  in 
his  own  little  room,  and  in  the  eagerness  of  the  nar- 
ration, he  began  to  show  Use  the  way  in  which  he  had 
privately  learnt  his  first  steps.  As  he  was  swinging 
round,  the  swan's  down  of  the  fan  projected  like  a  great 
feather  out  of  his  pocket,  and  a  new  dance  beginning 


THE  PROFESSORS'  BALL.  297 

the   Professor  was  Carried    off  through  the  whirling 
couples  with  Laura's  fan. 

It  was  only  a  few  steps  that  Use  had  taken  through 
the  hall ;  but  this  little  expression  of  independent  will 
had  gained  her  the  good  opinion  of  the  University ; 
for,  if  there  had  been  some  remarks  upon  her  country 
manners,  now,  on  the  other  hand,  men  and  women 
agreed  in  acknowledging  that  she  had  heart  and  char- 
acter. 

According  to  old  custom,  the  ball  was  here  inter- 
rupted by  a  general  repast.  Worthy  professors  had 
already  wandered  beforehand  into  the  neighboring 
room,  peering  at  the  laying  of  the  table,  and  had  care- 
fully placed  their  card  in  the  places  they  reserved  and 
arranged  with  the  waiters  about  the  wine.  At  last  the 
whole  company  gathered  about  the  table.  When  Use 
went  on  her  husband's  arm  to  her  place,  she  asked,  in 
a  low  tone  : 

"  Was  it  right  in  me  to  go  over  there  ?  " 
And  he  replied,  gravely  : 
"  It  was  not  wrong." 

With  this  she  was  for  the  present  obliged  to  be 
content. 

During  the  supper  the  Rector  proposed  the  first 
toast — "Our  Academical  Society" — and  the  assem- 
bled gentlemen  thought  his  slight  allusion  to  friendly 
concord  among  the  colleagues  touched  in  an  indelicate 
way  on  the  burning  question  of  the  day.  But  this  ef- 
fect passed  away  immediately  in  other  toasts,  and  Use 
remarked  that  the  supper  speeches  here  were  carried 
on  very  differently  to  those  in  the  Rollmaus  family. 
One  colleague  after  another  clinked  the  glass  ;  and 
how  elegantly  and  intellectually  they  knew  how  to 
portray  things  with  their  hands  behind  their  backs 


298  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

and  looking  coolly  around,  and  alluding,  in  fine  sen- 
tences, to  the  guests,  the  ladies  and  the  rest  of  man- 
kind. When  the  corks  of  the  champagne  popped,  the 
eloquence  became  overpowering,  and  two  professors 
even  clinked  their  glasses  at  the  same  time.  Then  the 
Professor  of  History  arose ;  all  became  still.  He 
greeted  the  new  members  of  the  University — women  as 
well  as  men — and  Use  saw  that  this  applied  to  herself 
and  looked  down  on  her  plate.  But  she  grew  alarmed 
when  she  found  that  he  became  more  personal,  and 
at  last  her  own  name  as  well  as  that  of  the  wife  of  the 
Mineralogist,  who  was  sitting  by  Felix,  sounded 
through  the  room.  The  glasses  resounded,  a  flourish 
of  trumpets  was  blown,  many  colleagues  and  some  of 
the  ladies  arose  and  proceeded  with  their  glasses  to- 
ward them.  A  little  procession  took  place  behind  the 
chairs,  and  Use  and  the  Mineralogist's  wife  had  to 
clink  their  glasses  incessantly,  to  bow  and  return 
thanks.  When  Use  rose  blushingly  for  this  purpose, 
her  eyes  glanced  involuntarily  to  the  next  table,  where 
the  wife  of  Struvelius  was  sitting  opposite,  and  she 
observed  that  the  latter  half  moved  her  hand  toward 
her  glass,  then  quickly  drew  it  back,  and  looked 
gloomily  down. 

The  company  rose,  and  now  the  hilarity  began  in 
good  earnest,  for  the  Professors  became  lively,  and 
called  to  mind  their  old  agility.  There  was  a  changed 
aspect  in  the  room,  for  soon  even  respectable,  middle- 
aged  gentlemen  waltzed  with  their  own  wives.  Oh  ! 
it  was  a  cheering  and  touching  spectacle  to  Use.  Many 
an  old  dress-coat  and  clumsy  boot  moved  to  the 
measure  ;  and  many  of  the  gentlemen  danced  with  va- 
rious slidings  of  the  feet,  and  bold  movements  of  the 
knees,  determined  to  recall  the  style  of  their  youthful 


THE  PROFESSORS'  BALL.  299 

days,  and  with  the  feeling  that  they  still  understood 
the  art.  Some  of  the  ladies  clung  shyly  to  the  arms 
of  the  dancers,  some  were  ungraceful  in  their  move- 
ments, others  showed  how  well  they  were  able  to  gov- 
ern at  home, — for,  when  their  husbands  were  not  suffi- 
ciently practiced  in  the  art,  they  knew  how  to  carry 
them  round  the  circle  with  vigorous  swings.  The 
Rector  danced  very  neatly  with  his  chubby  wife,  and 
Raschke  danced  with  his  wife,  and  looked  triumphantly 
toward  Use.  The  noisy  merriment  increased  ;  all  Use's 
neighbors  were  carried  away  by  the  excitement,  and 
commenced  waltzing.  And  Use  stood  looking  on  not 
far  from  a  pillar.  Somebody  came  behind  and  touched 
her ;  there  was  a  rustling  of  a  silk  dress,  and  the  wife 
of  Struvelius  approached  her. 

Use  looked  startled  at  the  large  grey  eyes  of  her 
opponent,  who  began  slowly : 

"I  take  you  to  be  a  noble-minded  woman,  quite  in- 
capable of  any  mean  feeling,  and  this  is  why  I  have 
now  come  to  speak  to  you." 

Use  bowed  slightly,  in  order  to  express  her  thanks 
for  the  unexpected  declaration. 

"I  go  about,"  continued  Mrs.  Struvelius,  in  her 
measured  way,  "as  if  a  curse  were  on  me.  What  I 
have  suffered  the  last  few  weeks  is  unutterable  ;  this 
evening  I  feel  like  an  outcast  in  this  joyous  gathering." 
Her  hand  trembled,  but  she  continued  in  a  monoto- 
nous tone  :  "My  husband  is  innocent,  and  is  convinced 
that  he  is  right  in  the  main.  It  is  fitting  for  me,  as 
his  wife,  to  share  his  views  and  his  fate ;  but  I  see  him 
inwardly  disturbed  by  an  unfortunate  entanglement, 
and  I  perceive  with  dismay  that  he  may  lose  the  good 
opinion  of  his  most  intimate  friends,  if  he  should  not 
succeed  in  dispelling  the  suspicions  which  gather 


3OO  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

about  his  head.  Help  me !"  she  cried,  with  a  sudden 
outburst,  wringing  her  hands,  while  two  big  tears 
rolled  down  her  cheeks. 

"How  can  I  do  that?"  asked  Use. 

"There  is  a  secret  in  the  affair,"  continued  Mrs. 
Struvelius  :  "my  husband  was  incautious  enough  to 
promise  unconditional  silence,  and  his  word  is  sacred 
to  him  ;  he  is  a  child  in  matters  of  business,  and  is 
quite  at  a  loss  what  to  do  in  the  matter.  What  may 
be  necessary  to  justify  him  must  be  sought  without 
his  knowledge  or  co-operation.  I  beg  of  you  not  to 
refuse  your  assistance." 

"I  can  do  nothing  that  my  husband  would  disap- 
prove of,  and  I  have  never  kept  a  secret  from  him," 
replied  Use,  seriously. 

"I  desire  nothing  that  the  strictest  judgment  could 
condemn,"  continued  the  other.  "Your  husband  will 
be  the  first  to  know  whatever  I  may  be  able  to  ascer- 
tain, and  therefore  I  apply  to  you.  Ah  !  not  only  on 
that  account ;  I  know  no  one  whom  I  can  trust.  What 
I  now  tell  you  I  have  not  learnt  from  my  husband  :  he 
received  the  unfortunate  parchment  from  Magister 
Knips,  and  he  returned  it  to  him." 

"Is  that  the  little  Magister  in  our  street  ?"  inquired 
Use. 

"The  same.  I  must  persuade  him  to  produce  the 
parchment  again,  or  to  tell  me  where  it  is  to  be  found. 
But  this  is  not  the  place  to  discuss  this  matter,"  she 
exclaimed,  as  the  music  ceased.  "Situated  as  our 
husbands  now  are,  I  cannot  visit  you  ;  it  would  be  too 
painful  for  me,  should  I  meet  your  husband,  to  feel 
his  altered  demeanor ;  but  I  wish  for  your  advice,  and 
beg  of  you  to  allow  me  to  meet  you  at  some  other 
place." 


THE  PROFESSORS'  BALL.  301 

"If  Magister  Knips  is  concerned  in  the  matter," 
replied  Use,  with  hesitation,  "I  would  propose  to  you 
to  come  to  the  room  of  our  landlord's  daughter,  Laura 
Hummel.  We  shall  be  undisturbed  in  her  room,  and 
she  knows  more  of  the  Magister  and  his  family  than 
we  do.  But  I  fear  we  poor  women  can  hardly  accom- 
plish much  alone." 

"I  am  determined  to  risk  everything,  in  order  to 
free  my  husband  from  the  unworthy  suspicion  which 
threatens  to  be  cast  upon  him.  Prove  yourself  to  be 
what  you  appear  to  me,  and  I  will  thank  you  on  my 
knees." 

She  moved  her  hand  convulsively,  and  then  looked 
about  her  with  an  air  of  indifference. 

"We  shall  meet  to  morrow,"  replied  Use  ;  "so  far, 
at  least,  I  can  agree  to  your  wishes." 

They  then  settled  the  hour. 

Thus  the  ladies  separated.  From  behind  the  pillar 
Mrs.  Struvelius  once  more  gazed  imploringly  at  Use 
with  her  large  eyes  ;  then  both  were  lost  in  the  throng 
of  the  departing  ball-guests. 

After  her  return  home,  Use  long  continued  to  hear 
in  her  dreams  the  music  of  the  dance,  and  saw  strange 
men  and  women  come  to  her  bedside,  and  she  laughed 
and  wondered  at  the  queer  people  who  chose  to  visit 
her  now  as  she  was  lying  in  bed  without  her  beautiful 
dress  and  fan.  But  in  the  midst  of  these  pleasant 
musings  she  felt  a  secret  anxiety  as  to  what  her  Felix 
would  say  of  all  these  visitors ;  and  when  she  gently 
sighed  over  this  anxiety,  the  dream  floated  back  to- 
wards the  ivory  portals  from  whence  it  had  come. 
She  sank  into  a  sound  sleep. 

The  following  morning  Use  went  up  to  Laura  and 
confided  to  her  the  events  of  the  previous  evening,  and 


3O2  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

the  request  of  Mrs.  Struvelius.  The  secret  meeting 
with  the  Professor's  wife  quite  pleased  Laura.  She 
had  for  some  time  past  more  than  once  heard  about 
the  mysterious  parchment  at  the  tea-table.  She  thought 
the  determination  of  Mrs.  Struvelius  very  courageous, 
and  spoke  with  contempt  of  anything  that  Magister 
Knips  could  contrive. 

Just  as  the  clock  struck,  Mrs.  Struvelius  entered. 
She  looked  much  oppressed,  and  one  could  perceive 
anxious  excitement  even  through  her  immovable  feat- 
ures. 

Use  shortened  the  unavoidable  introductory  com- 
pliments and  excuses  by  beginning  : 

"I  have  told  Miss  Laura  of  your  desire  to  obtain 
the  parchment,  and  she  is  ready  to  send  over  directly 
for  Magister  Knips." 

"That  is  far  more  than  I  had  ventured  to  hope," 
said  Mrs.  Struvelius.  "  I  had  intended  with  your 
kind  assistance  to  look  him  up  myself." 

"He  shall  come  here,"  said  Laura,  decidedly, 
"and  he  shall  answer  for  himself.  I  have  always 
found  him  unendurable,  although  I  have  frequently 
bought  pretty  pictures  of  him.  His  humility  is  such 
as  does  not  become  a  man,  and  I  consider  him  a  sneak 
at  heart." 

The  cook  Susan  was  called,  and  despatched  by 
Laura  as  a  herald  to  the  fortress  of  Knips. 

"You  are,  under  no  consideration,  to  tell  him  that 
any  one  is  with  me ;  and  when  he  comes,  bring  him  up 
directly." 

Susan  returned  with  a  sly  look,  and  brought  the 
Magister's  compliments:  "he  desired  her  to  say  he 
would  have  the  honor  of  waiting  upon  her  imme- 
diately. He  seemed  astonished,  but  pleased." 


THE  PROFESSORS'  BALL.  303 

''He  shall  be  astonished,"  exclaimed  Laura. 

The  allied  ladies  sat  down  around  the  sofa-table, 
feeling  the  importance  of  the  task  which  was  before 
them. 

"When  I  am  talking  with  him,"  began  Mrs.  Stru- 
velius,  solemnly,  "have  the  kindness  to  attend  accur- 
ately to  his  answers,  that  you  may  in  case  of  necessity 
repeat  them,  and  thus  be  rny  supporters  and  wit- 
nesses." 

"I  can  write  quickly,"  exclaimed  Laura,  "I  will 
write  down  what  he  answers,  then  he  cannot  deny  it." 

"That  would  be  too  much  like  a  trial,"  interposed 
Use,  "and  will  only  make  him  suspicious." 

The  furious  bark  of  a  dog  was  heard  outside. 

"He  is  coming,"  said  Mrs.  Struvelius,  drawing  her- 
self up  with  dignity. 

A  loud  step  was  heard  on  the  stairs,  Susan  opened 
the  door,  and  Magister  Knips  entered.  He  did  not 
look  dangerous.  He  was  a  short,  crooked  man;  it 
was  doubtful  whether  he  was  young  or  old.  He  had 
a  pale  face,  prominent  cheek  bones,  on  which  were 
two  red  spots,  screwed  up  eyes  such  as  short-sighted 
people  generally  have,  and  red  from  much  night-work 
by  dull  lamps.  He  stood  there,  in  a  threadbare  coat, 
with  his  head  bent  on  one  side,  a  humble  servant,  per- 
haps a  victim  of  learning.  When  he  saw  the  three 
ladies  sitting,  all  stern  and  solemn,  where  his  heart 
had  only  hoped  to  find  one,  and  among  them  the  wives 
of  important  men,  he  stopped  confounded  at  the  door  ; 
he  composed  himself,  however,  and  made  three  low 
bows,  probably  one  to  each  lady,  but  refrained  from 
speaking. 

"Sit  down,  Magister,"  began  Laura,  condescend- 
ingly, pointing  to  an  empty  chair  opposite  the  sofa. 


304  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

The  Magister  approached  hesitatingly,  pushed  the 
chair  further  out  of  reach  of  the  three  goddesses  of 
fate,  and  with  another  bow  seated  himself  on  the  cor- 
ner of  the  chair. 

''  It  must  be  known  to  you,  Magister,"  began  Mrs. 
Struvelius,  "that  the  last  publication  of  my  husbarld 
has  occasioned  discussions  which  have  been  painful  to 
all  engaged  in  them,  and  I  assume  also  to  you." 

Knips  made  a  piteous  face,  and  dropped  his  head 
entirely  on  one  shoulder. 

"I  now  appeal  to  the  interest  which  you  take  in 
the  studies  of  my  husband,  and  I  appeal  to  your  heart, 
when  I  beseech  you  to  give  me  frankly  and  straight- 
forwardly the  information  which  must  be  desirable  to 
us  all." 

She  stopped.  Knips,  with  bent  head,  looked  askance 
at  her,  and  also  remained  silent. 

"I  beg  for  an  answer,"  said  Mrs.  Struvelius,  em- 
phatically. 

"With  all  my  heart,"  began  Knips  at  last,  in  a 
piping  voice.  "But  I  do  not  know  what  I  have  to 
answer  to." 

"  My  husband  received  from  you  the  parchment 
which  was  the  subject  of  his  last  treatise." 

"Did  the  Professor  tell  you  that?"  asked  Knips, 
still  more  piteously. 

"No,"  answered  Mrs.  Struvelius;  "but  I  heard 
you  come,  and  I  also  heard  that  he  promised  to  be 
silent  about  something,  and  when  I  entered  his  room 
later  I  saw  the  parchment  lying  on  his  table,  and  when 
I  enquired  about  it,  he  said,  'That  is  a  secret."' 

The  Magister  looked  round  about  uneasily,  and  at 
last  cast  his  eyes  down  on  his  knees,  where  his  trousers 
were  unusually  threadbare  and  smooth  from  wear. 


THE  PROFESSORS'  BALL.  305 

'•'If  the  Professor  himself  considers  that  the  affair 
is  a  secret,  it  is  not  for  me  to  speak  of  it,  even  if  I  did 
know  anything  about  it." 

''Then  you  refuse  to  give  us  the  information?" 

"Ah,  my  dear  lady,  there  is  no  one  to  whom  I 
would  rather  make  a  communication  than  to  the  ex- 
cellent ladies  whom  I  have  the  honor  of  seeing  here, 
but  I  am  much  too  insignificant  to  be  able  to  serve 
you  in  this." 

"And  have  you  taken  into  consideration  the  em- 
barrassing consequences  of  your  refusal,  for  my  hus- 
band, for  the  whole  University,  and — what  you,  an 
advocate  of  truth,  must  consider  more  important  than 
all — for  science?" 

Knips  acknowledged  himself  to  be  the  advocate  of 
truth. 

Laura  remarked  that  the  examination  was  wander- 
ing into  by-paths  on  which  the  parchment  was  not  to 
be  found  ;  she  jumped  up,  and  cried  out : 

"Go  out  of  the  room  for  a  little  while,  Magister 
Knips,  I  wish  to  confer  with  the  Professor's  wife." 

Knips  rose  very  readily  and  made  a  bow. 

"But  you'must  not  go  away.  Go  into  the  next 
room.  Come,  I  shall  call  you  in  again  directly." 

Knips  followed  her  with  bowed  head,  and  Laura 
came  back  on  tiptoes  and  said,  in  a  low  tone : 

"I  have  locked  him  in,  that  he  may  not  escape." 

The  ladies  put  their  heads  together  in  close  con- 
sultation. 

"You  deal  too  tenderly  with  him,  Mrs.  Struvelius, " 
whispered  Laura.  "Offer  him  money.  That  will 
allure  him.  It  is  hard  for  me  to  say  so,  but  I  know 
the  Knips  family — they  are  selfish." 

"I  also  have  thought  of  that,  for  an  extreme  case," 


306  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

replied  Mrs.  Struvelius,  "only  I  did  not  wish  to  hurt 
him  by  such  an  offer,  if  there  were  any  manly  feeling 
in  him." 

"Pshaw  !"  exclaimed  Laura,  "he  is  not  a  man,  he 
is  only  a  coward.  If  at  first  he  refuses,  offer  him  more. 
Here  is  my  pocket-book;  I  beg  of  you  to  take  it." 

She  ran  to  her  writing-table  and  fetched  out  the  em- 
broidered purse. 

"I  thank  you  from  my  heart,"  whispered  Mrs. 
Struvelius,  taking  out  her  purse  from  her  pocket.  "If 
there  is  only  sufficient,"  she  said,  anxiously  drawing 
the  strings.  "  Let  us  see  quickly  how  much  we  have. " 

"God  forbid!"  cried  Laura,  hastily.  "It  is  full 
of  gold." 

' '  I  have  turned  everything  that  I  could  into  money, " 
replied  Mrs.  Struvelius  hurriedly;  "everything  else 
is  of  little  value."' 

Use  took  the  purses  out  of  the  hands  of  both  ladies 
and  said  firmly  : 

"  That  is  far  too  much.  We  ought  not  to  offer  him 
such  sums ;  we  do  not  know  whether  we  should  not  thus 
be  exposing  the  poor  man  to  the  temptation  of  doing 
wrong.  If  we  offer  him  money  we  embark  in  a  trans- 
action which  we  do  not  thoroughly  understand." 

The  others  disputed  this,  and  there  was  much 
whispered  consultation.  At  last  Laura  decided  : 

"  He  shall  have  two  pieces  of  gold,  that  is  settled." 

Laura  hastened  out  to  bring  back  the  prisoner. 

When  the  Magister  entered,  Mrs.  Struvelius  looked 
so  imploringly  at  Use,  that  the  latter  made  up  her  mind 
to  carry  on  the  negotiation. 

"Magister,  we  have  set  our  hearts  upon  having 
this  bit  of  manuscript  with  which  the  professors  have 


THE    PROFESSORS     BALL.  307 

been  so  much  occupied,  and  as  you  know  about  it,  we 
request  your  help  to  obtain  it." 

A  submissive  smile  played  over  the  lips  of  Magister 
Knips. 

"We  wish  to  buy  it,"  interposed  Mrs.  Struvelius; 
"and  we  beg  of  you  to  undertake  the  purchase.  You 
shall  have  the  money  necessary  for  it." 

Forgetting  her  agreement  in  their  intense  anxiety, 
she  put  her  hand  into  her  purse  and  counted  one  louis 
d'or  after  another  on  the  table,  till  Laura  sprang  up, 
terrified,  and  tugged  at  her  shawl  from  behind. 

Knips  again  laid  his  head  on  his  shoulder,  and 
fixed  his  eyes  upon  the  small  fingers  of  the  Professor's 
wife,  from  which  fell  one  gold  piece  after  another. 

"This,  and  still  more,  shall  be  yours,"  cried  Mrs. 
Struvelius,  "if  you  will  procure  me  the  parchment." 

The  Magister  fumbled  in  his  pocket  for  his  hand- 
kerchief, and  wiped  his  forehead. 

"It  must  be  well  known  to  the  ladies,"  he  said, 
plaintively,  "that  I  have  to  read  many  proof-sheets, 
and  to  work  late  into- the  night  before  I  can  earn  the 
tenth  portion  of  what  you  lay  before  me.  It  is  a  great 
temptation  to  me  ;  but  I  do  not  believe  that  I  can  ob- 
tain the  strip  of  parchment ;  and  if  I  should  succeed 
I  fear  it  will  only  be  upon  condition  that  it  shall  not 
get  into  the  hands  of  any  of  the  professors,  but  be  de- 
stroyed here  in  your  presence. 

"Go  out  again,  Magister  Knips,"  cried  Laura, 
springing  up,  "  and  leave  your  hat  here  that  you  may 
not  escape  us." 

The  Magister  disappeared  for  the  second  time. 
Again  the  women  put  their  heads  together. 

"He  has  the  parchment,  and  he  can  produce  it ; 
we  know  that  now,"  exclaimed  Laura. 


308  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

"We  cannot  agree  to  his  offer,"  said  Use.  "  It  is 
not  right  for  us  to  take  possession  of  the  parchment ; 
it  must  be  examined  by  our  husbands,  and  then  re- 
turned to  the  Magister." 

"  I  beg  of  you  to  take  away  all  this  money,"  cried 
Laura,  "and  permit  me  now  to  adopt  another  tone 
with  him,  for  my  patience  is  at  an  end."  She  opened 
the  door  :  "Come  in,  Magister  Knips.  Listen  atten- 
tively to  me.  You  have  refused,  and  the  money  has 
disappeared,  all  but  two  pieces,  which  may  still  be 
yours  ;  but  only  on  the  condition  that  you  procure  for 
us  at  once  what  Mrs.  Struvelius  has  begged  of  you. 
For  we  have  clearly  seen  that  you  possess  the  strip, 
and  if  you  still  refuse  we  shall  have  cause  to  suspect 
that  you  have  acted  dishonorably  in  the  matter." 

Knips  looked  terrified,  and  raised  his  hands  im- 
ploringly. 

"  I  shall  go  directly,"  continued  Laura,  "  to  your 
mother,  and  tell  her  that  there  is  an  end  to  all  connec- 
tion between  her  and  our  house  ;  and  I  shall  go  over 
to  Mr.  Hahn,  and  tell  him  of  your  conduct,  that  he 
may  set  your  brother  at  you.  Your  brother  is  in  busi- 
ness, and  knows  what  is  upright ;  and  if  he  does  not 
see  it  in  that  light,  Mr.  Hahn  will,  and  that  would  not 
be  to  the  advantage  of  your  brother.  Finally,  I  tell 
you  further,  I  will  at  once  send  over  for  Fritz  Hahn 
and  tell,  him  everything,  and  then  he  shall  deal  with 
you.  Fritz  Hahn  will  get  the  better  of  you,  you  know, 
and  so  do  I,  for  he  always  did  when  we  were  children. 
I  know  you,  Magister.  We,  in  our  street,  are  not  the 
sort  of  people  to  allow  ourselves  to  be  hoodwinked, 
and  we  value  good  conduct  in  the  neighborhood. 
Therefore,  procure  the  parchment,  or  you  shall  know 
Laura  Hummel." 


THE  PROFESSORS'  BALL.  309 

Thus  spoke  Laura  with  flaming  eyes,  and  clench- 
ing her  little  hand  at  the  Magister.  Use  looked  with 
astonishment  at  her  determined  friend. 

If  a  discourse  is  to  be  judged  by  its  effect,  Laura's 
speech  was  a  pattern,  for  it  worked  most  disturbingly 
on  the  Magister.  He  had  grown  up  among  the  peo- 
ple and  customs  of  that  little  street,  and  could  well 
appreciate  the  consequences  which  Laura's  hostility 
would  exercise  on  the  needy  circumstances  of  his 
private  life.  He,  therefore,  struggled  for  a  time  for 
words,  and  at  last  began,  in  a  low  voice  : 

"As  even  Miss  Laura  suspects  me,  I  am  undoubt- 
edly compelled  to  tell  how  the  affair  stands.  I  know 
an  old  traveling  pedlar  who  carries  about  with  him 
various  antiquities — wood-cuts,  miniatures,  and  also 
fragments  of  old  manuscripts,  and  anything  of  the 
kind  that  comes  in  his  way.  I  have  frequently  ob- 
tained him  customers,  and  given  him  information  upon 
the  value  of  rare  things.  This  man,  during  his  stay 
here,  showed  me  a  collection  of  old  parchment  leaves, 
concerning  which  he  was  already,  he  said,  in  negotia- 
tion with  a  foreigner.  Attention  being  drawn  to  the 
double  writing  on  the  leaves,  the  strip  appeared  note- 
worthy to  him,  and  to  me  also.  I  read  some  of  it,  as 
far  as  could  be  made  out  through  the  paste  that  lay 
upon  it ;  and  begged  him  at  least  to  lend  me  the  parch- 
ment that  I  might  show  it  to  our  scholars.  I  carried 
it  to  Professor  Struvelius,  and  as  he  judged  that  it 
might  perhaps  be  worth  the  trouble  of  examining,  I 
went  again  to  the  dealer.  He  told  me  he  would  not 
sell  the  strip  outright,  but  he  should  like  something 
to  be  written  concerning  it,  as  that  would  increase  its 
value  ;  and  he  delivered  it  into  my  hands  till  his  re- 
turn. This  week  he  came  again  to  take  it  away  with 


3IO  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

him.  I  do  not  know  whether  it  is  still  to  be  had,  or 
whether  he  will  take  this  money  for  it.  I  fear  not." 

The  ladies  looked  at  each  other. 

"  You  all  hear  this  statement,"  began  Mrs.  Struve- 
lius.  "But  why,  Magister,  did  you  beg  my  husband 
to  tell  no  one  that  the  parchment  came  from  you  ?  " 

The  Magister  turned  on  his  chair  and  again  looked 
at  his  knees  embarrassed. 

"Ah,  the  lady  will  not  be  angry  if  I  speak  out. 
Professor  Werner  had  always  been  very  friendly  to 
me,  and  I  feared  that  he  might  take  it  amiss  if  I  did 
not  first  show  him  such  a  discovery.  But  Professor 
Struvelius  had  also  a  claim  to  my  gratitude,  for  he  had 
graciously  intrusted  to  me  the  proof-sheets  and  table 
of  contents  of  the  new  edition  of  his  great  work.  I 
was,  therefore,  in  fear  of  offending  two  valuable  pa- 
trons." 

This  was  unfortunate,  certainly,  and  not  improb- 
able. 

"  Oh  !  do  contrive  that  your  husband  may  hear 
him,"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Struvelius. 

"We  hope,  Magister,  that  you  will  repeat  your 
words  before  others  who  can  understand  the  import  of 
them  better  than  we  do,"  said  Use. 

The  Magister  expressed  his  willingness  timidly. 

"But  you  must,  nevertheless,  procure  the  parch- 
ment," interposed  Laura. 

Knips  shrugged  his  shoulders.  "  If  it  is  possible," 
he  said;  "but  I  don't  know  whether  the  man  will 
give  it  up  for  this  sum." 

Mrs.  Struvelius  was  again  putting  her  hand  into 
her  pocket ;  but  Use  held  it  back,  and  Laura  cried 
out : 

"  We  will  give  no  more. " 


THE  PROFESSORS'  BALL.  311 

"Nevertheless,"  continued  the  Magister,  impelled 
by  the  determination  of  his  judges,  "as  doubts  have 
been  raised  of  its  genuineness,  the  parchment  may  have 
lost  some  of  its  value  for  the  dealer.  But  if  I  should 
succeed  in  being  of  service  to  you,  I  respectfully  en- 
treat you  not  to  bear  any  malice  against  me  for  the 
unfortunate  share  which,  without  any  fault  on  my 
part,  I  have  had  in  this  sad  business.  It  has  grieved 
me  much  the  whole  time  ;  and  since  the  criticism  of 
Professor  Werner  has  been  printed,  I  have  daily  la- 
mented that  I  ever  set  eyes  on  the  parchment.  I 
should  sink  into  an  abyss  of  misery  if  I  were  to  lose 
my  respected  patrons." 

These  words  excited  the  compassion  of  his  judges, 
and  Mrs.  Struvelius  said,  kindly  : 

"We  believe  you,  for  it  is  a  dreadful  feeling  to 
have  deceived  others,  even  unintentionally." 

But  Laura,  who  had  established  herself  as  president 
of  the  council,  decided  shortly  : 

"I  beg  that  all  who  have  taken  part  in  this  will 
meet  here  to-morrow  at  the  same  hour.  I  give  you  to 
that  time,  Magister  Knips,  to  procure  the  parchment. 
After  the  expiration  of  this  respite  our  house  will  be 
closed  to  you,  our  washing  withdrawn,  and  notice 
given  to  the  Hahn  family.  See,  therefore,  that  we 
come  to  an  amicable  settlement." 

The  Magister  approached  the  table,  drew  with 
one  finger  the  gold  pieces  into  the  palm  of  his  hand, 
which  he  modestly  held  under  the  edge  of  the  table, 
made  three  low  bows,  and  took  leave  of  the  ladies. 

Use  related  the  adventure  to  her  husband,  and 
Felix  listened  with  astonishment  at  the  role  which  the 
learned  factotum  had  played  in  the  tragedy. 

On  the  following  morning  the  Magister  made  his 


312  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

appearance  before  the  Professor.  Breathless  he  drew 
out  of  his  pocket  the  unfortunate  strip  of  parchment, 
and  carried  it  with  bowed  head  and  outstretched 
hand,  bending  lower  and  lower,  humbly  and  implor- 
ingly, from  the  door  to  the  writing-table  of  the  Pro- 
fessor. 

"I  venture  to  bring  this  to  you,  rather  than  en- 
counter the  ladies  for  a  second  time.  Perhaps  you 
will  graciously  deign  to  deliver  this  through  your  wife 
into  the  hands  of  its  new  possessor." 

When  ^he  Professor  examined  him  severely,  he 
began  a  statement  in  defence  of  himself.  What  he 
said  was  not  improbable.  The  name  of  the  doubtful 
trader  was  known  to  the  Professor.  He  was  aware 
that  he  had  been  staying  in  the  town  during  the  course 
of  the  last  few  weeks,  and  from  the  numerous  com- 
munications that  Knips  had  had  with  this  man  in  the 
interest  of  his  patrons,  there  was  nothing  extraordi- 
nary in  their  intimacy.  The  Professor  examined  the 
parchment  carefully.  If  there  had  been  a  forgery  here, 
it  had  been  carried  out  in  a  masterly  way ;  but  Knips 
produced  a  microscope  from  his  waistcoat  pocket, 
and  pointed  out  how,  by  means  of  the  magnifying 
glass,  one  could  discover  that  sometimes  the  shadowy 
characters  of  the  apparently  very  ancient  handwriting 
had  been  introduced  over  the  words  of  the  church  pray- 
ers, and  had  therefore  been  painted  on  at  a  later  period. 

"Your  strictures  in  the  Classical  Gazette  drew  my 
attention  to  this,  and  early  this  morning,  when  I  ob- 
tained the  parchment,  I  carefully  examined  what  had 
been  rendered  indistinct  by  the  paste.  So  far  as  I  may 
be  permitted  to  have  a  judgment  in  such  things,  I 
now  venture  to  share  your  opinion  that  a  forgery  has 
been  perpetrated  on  this  strip." 


THE  PROFESSORS'  BALL.  313 

The  Professor  threw  it  aside. 

"I  regret  that  you  have  ever  had  anything  to  do 
with  it,  even  though  unintentionally  ;  you  have  done 
a  mischief,  the  painful  effects  of-  which  you  cannot  fail 
to  see.  I  am  sorry  for  it  on  your  own  account.  This 
unfortunate  occurrence  will  throw  a  shadow  over  your 
life  ;  and  I  would  give  much  to  be  able  to  wipe  it 
away.  For  we  have  known  one  another  through  much 
mutual  work,  Magister,  and  I  have  always  felt  a  sym- 
pathy in  your  self-sacrificing  activity  in  favor  of  others. 
In  spite  of  your  book-chaffering,  which  I  do  not  ap- 
prove of,  and  in  spite  of  your  waste  of  time  in  labors 
which  might  be  done  by  less  efficient  persons,  I  have 
always  considered  you  as  a  man  whose  extraordinary 
knowledge  inspires  respect." 

The  humble  Magister  raised  his  head,  and  a  smile 
passed  over  his  face. 

"I  have  always,  Professor,  considered  you  as  the 
only  one  among  my  distinguished  patrons,  who  has 
the  right  to  tell  me  that  I  have  learned  too  little  ;  you 
are  also,  Professor,  the  one  to  whom  I  venture  to  con- 
fess that  I  have  secretly  never  ceased  to  esteem  my- 
self as  a  man  of  learning.  I  hope  that  you  will  not 
deny  me  the  testimony  that  I  have  always  been  a 
trustworthy  and  faithful  laborer  in  that  cause." 

He  fell  back  into  his  humble  attitude,  as  he  con- 
tinued : 

"  What  has  happened  will  be  a  lesson  for  me  in 
future." 

"  I  demand  more  of  you.  First,  you  must  take  the 
trouble  of  ascertaining  through  your  acquaintance  the 
hidden  source  from  which  this  forgery  has  emanated, 
for  it  can  scarcely  be  the  accidental  idea  of  an  un- 
scrupulous man  ;  it  is  rather  the  work  of  an  ill- directed 


314  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

industry,  which  in  time  will  produce  more  evil. 
Further,  it  is  your  duty  at  once  to  deliver  the  parch- 
ment to  Professor  Struvelius,  and  impart  to  him  your 
discovery.  You  yourself  will  do  well  to  be  more  cau- 
tious in  future  in  the  choice  of  the  traders  with  whom 
you  deal." 

In  these  views  Knips  fully  acquiesced  and  de- 
parted, whilst  he  imploringly  besought  the  kind  con- 
sideration of  the  Professor  for  the  future. 

"He  has,  I  am  certain,  to  some  extent  been  con- 
cerned in  the  knavery,"  exclaimed  the  Doctor. 

"No,"  rejoined  the  Professor.  "His  fault  has 
been,  that  up  to  the  last  moment  he  cared  more  for 
his  bargain  than  for  the  discovery  of  the  truth." 

In  the  afternoon  Mrs.  Struvelius  said  to  Use : 

"What  we  have  succeeded  in  obtaining  has  been 
very  painful  to  my  husband.  For  it  has  convinced 
him  that  he  was  deceived,  while  others  discovered  the 
true  state  of  the  case.  It  is  a  cruel  grief  to  a  wife 
when  she  is  the  instrument  of  bringing  about  such 
humiliation  to  him  she  loves  best.  This  sorrow  I 
shall  long  continue  to  feel.  Besides  this,  our  husbands 
are  so  estranged  from  one  another,  that  a  long  time 
will  elapse,  before  their  wounded  feelings  will  admit 
of  a  reconciliation,  or  allow  them  to  cherish  for  each 
other  the  respect  which  as  colleagues  they  mutually 
owe.  I  hope,  however,  that  the  relations  between 
you  and  me  will  not  suffer.  I  have  discovered  the 
worth  of  your  heart,  and  I  beg  of  you — in  spite  of 
my  unprepossessing  manner,  of  which  I  am  well  aware 
— to  accept  the  friendship  which  I  feel  for  you." 

As  she  walked  slowly  towards  the  door  in  her  black 
dress,  Use  looked  after  her  with  a  feeling  of  surprise, 
that  the  first  impression  made  upon  her  by  the  learned 


THE  PROFESSORS'  BALL.  315 

lady  should  have  been  so  quickly  obliterated  by  other 
feelings. 

In  the  next  number  of  the  Classical  Gazette  there 
appeared  a  short  explanation  by  Professor  Struvelius, 
in  which  he  honorably  acknowledged  that  he  had  been 
deceived,  by  undoubtedly  a  very  expert  deception,  and 
that  he  must  be  grateful  to  the  acuteness  and  friendly 
activity  of  his  honored  colleague  who  had  contributed 
to  the  clearing  up  of  the  matter. 

"This  explanation  has  been  written  by  his  wife." 
said  the  obdurate  Doctor. 

"We  may  hope  that  the  disagreeable  affair  has 
come  to  an  end  for  all  concerned  in  it,"  concluded  the 
Professor  with  a  light  heart. 

But  the  hopes  even  of  a  great  scholar  are  not  al- 
ways fulfilled.  This  quarrel  of  the  scepter-bearing 
princes  of  the  University  had  not  only  introduced  Use 
into  a  new  position, but  had  brought  another  into  notice. 

On  the  evening  of  the  decisive  day  that  revealed 
the  worthlessness  of  the  parchment,  Magister  Knips 
sat  shivering  upon  the  floor  in  an  unwarmed  room  of 
his  poverty-stricken  dwelling.  Books  lay  in  disorderly 
heaps  on  the  shelves  by  the  wall  and  on  the  floor,  and 
he  sat  surrounded  by  them,  like  an  ant-lion  in  his  den. 
He  shoved  into  a  dark  corner  an  old  cigar  chest  of  his 
brother's,  which  was  filled  with  many  small  bottles 
and  paint-pots,  and  laid  the  old  books  upon  it.  Then 
he  placed  the  lamp  on  a  stool  near  him,  and  with  se- 
cret satisfaction  took  up  one  old  book  after  another, 
examined  the  binding,  read  the  title  and  last  page, 
stroked  it  caressingly  with  his  hand,  and  then  again 
laid  it  on  the  heap.  At  last  he  seized  an  old  Italian 
edition  of  a  Greek  author  with  both  hands,  moved 
nearer  to  the  lamp,  and  examined  it  leaf  by  leaf. 


316  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

His  mother  called  through  the  door  : 

"  Leave  your  books  and  come  from  that  cold  room 
to  your  supper." 

"  This  book  has  not  been  seen  by  any  scholar  for 
two  hundred  years.  They  deny,  mother,  that  it  is 
even  in  existence  ;  but  I  have  it  in  my  hands — it  be- 
longs to  me  !  Tfeis  is  a  treasure,  mother." 

"What  good  will  your  treasure  do  you,  wretched 
boy?" 

"  But  I  have  it,  mother,"  said  the  Magister,  look- 
ing up  at  the  hard-featured  woman  ;  and  his  winking 
eyes  glistened  brightly.  "To-day  I  have  read  some 
proof-sheets  in  which  a  man  of  note  maintains  that 
this  volume  which  I  hold  here  has  never  existed.  He 
wishes  the  'never  existed'  to  be  printed  in  italics, 
and  I  have  so  marked  it  for  the  compositor,  though  I 
know  better." 

"  Are  you  coming  ?  "  called  out  the  mother  angrily. 
"Stop  your  work.  Your  beer  is  getting  flat." 

The  Magister  rose  unwillingly,  slipped  out  of  the 
room  with  his  felt  shoes,  and  seating  himself  at  the 
table  helped  himself  to  the  scanty  fare  before  him  and 
without  further  ado  began  to  eat. 

"Mother,"  he  said  to  the  woman,  who  was  watch- 
ing his  rapid  meal,  "  I  have  some  money  remaining  ; 
if  you  want  anything,  buy  it ;  but  I  will  know  how 
you  spend  it,  and  I  will  see  that  my  brother  does  not 
again  borrow  anything  from  you,  for  it  has  been  earned 
by  hard  work." 

"  Your  brother  will  now  pay  all  back,  for  Hahn  has 
improved  his  position,  and  he  has  a  good  salary." 

"That  is  not  true,"  replied  the  Magister,  looking 
sharply  at  his  mother.  "He  has  become  too  stylish 
to  dwell  with  us  now  ;  but  whenever  he  comes  he  al- 


THE  PROFESSORS'  BALL.  317 

ways  wants  something  of  you,  and  you  have  always 
loved  him  more  than  me." 

"Do  not  say  so,  my  son,"  cried  Mrs.  Knips.  "He 
is  quite  different ;  you  are  always  industrious,  quiet, 
and  collected,  and  even  as  a  small  boy  you  began  to 
save." 

"  I  have  obtained  for  myself  what  was  dear  to  me," 
said  the  Magister,  looking  toward  his  room,  "and  I 
have  found  much." 

"Ah,  but  what  hardships  you  suffer  for  it,  my  poor 
child  !  "  said  the  mother  flatteringly. 

"I  take  things  as  they  come,"  answered  the  Ma- 
gister, making  a  cheerful  grimace.  "I  read  proof- 
sheets,  and  I  do  much  work  for  these  learned  men, 
who  drive  in  carriages  like  people  of  distinction,  and 
when  I  come  to  them  they  treat  me  like  a  Roman 
slave.  No  man  knows  how  often  I  correct  their  stupid 
blunders,  and  the  bad  errors  in  their  Latin.  But  I  do 
not  do  it  for  all — only  for  those  who  have  deserved 
well  of  me.  I  let  the  mistakes  of  the  others  remain, 
and  I  shrug  my  shoulders  secretly  at  their  empty 
heads.  All  is  not  gold  that  glitters,"  he  said,  holding 
his  thin  beer  complacently  up  to  the  light,  "and  I 
alone  know  many  things.  I  am  always  correcting 
their  miserable  manuscripts,  but  do  not  correct  their 
worst  errors.  I  see  how  they  torment  themselves 
and  the  little  they  do  know  they  pilfer  from  other 
books.  One  sees  that  every  day,  mother,  and  one 
laughs  in  secret  at  the  course  of  the  world." 

And  Magister  Knips  laughed  at  the  world. 


318  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 


CHAPTER  XVII. 
THE    DECEPTION    OF    MR.     HUMMEL. 

IN  the  houses  of  the  park  there  reigned  peace,  for- 
bearance, and  secret  hope.  Since  the  arrival  of  Use 
the  old  strife  seemed  to  have  ceased,  and  the  hatchet 
to  have  been  buried.  It  is  true  that  Mr.  Hummel's 
dog  snarled  and  snapped  at  Mr.  Hahn's  cat  and  was 
boxed  on  the  ear  in  return  ;  and  that  Rothe,  the  porter, 
of  A.  C.  Hahn,  declared  his  contempt  of  the  store- 
keeper of  the  factory  of  Mr.  Hummel.  But  these  little 
occurrences  passed  away  like  inoffensive  air-bubbles 
which  rise  in  the  place  where  there  has  been  a  whirl- 
pool of  enmity.  The  intercourse  between  the  two 
houses  flowed  on  like  a  clear  brook,  and  forget-me-nots 
grew  on  its  banks.  If  a  misanthropical  spell  had  pen- 
etrated the  ground  at  the  time  when  Madame  Knips 
ruled  there  alone,  it  had  now  been  expelled  by  female 
exorcists. 

One  morning,  shortly  before  the  fair,  a  book-seller's 
porter  placed  a  pile  of  new  books  on  the  Doctor's 
writing-table ;  they  were  the  advance  copies  of  the  first 
great  work  he  had  written.  Fritz  opened  the  book 
and  gazed  at  the  title  page  for  a  moment  in  quiet  en- 
joyment ;  then  he  hastily  seized  his  pen,  wrote  some 
affectionate  words  on  the  fly-leaf  and  carried  it  to  his 
parents. 

The  book  treated,  in  the  words  of  Gabriel,  of 
the  old  Aryans  as  well  as  of  the  old  Germans ;  it  en- 
tered into  the  life  of  our  ancestors  before  the  time  in 
which  they  took  the  sensible  resolution  of  making 
pretty  nosegays  on  the  Blocksberg  and  rinsing  their 


THE    DECEPTION    OF    MR.    HUMMEL.  319 

drinking  horns  in  Father  Rhine.  It  was  a  very  learned- 
book,  and  so  far  as  the  knowledge  of  Ijie  writer 
reached,  it  revealed  many  secrets  of  antiquity. 

It  was  not  necessary  for  strangers  to  inform  the 
father  and  mother  of  the  importance  of  the  book  which 
Fritz  now  brought  them.  The  mother  kissed  her  son 
on  the  forehead,  and  could  not  control  her  emotion 
when  she  saw  his  name  printed  in  such  large  and  beau- 
tiful characters  on  the  title-page.  Mr.  Hahn  took 
the  book  in  his  hands,  and  carried  it  into  the  garden. 
There  he  laid  it  on  the  table  of  the  Chinese  temple, 
read  the  dedication  several  times  and  took  a  turn  or 
so  about  the  pavilion,  looking  in  again  occasionally, 
in  order  to  observe  whether  the  style  of  building  har- 
monized well  with  the  book ;  then  he  cleared  his  throat 
in  order  to  master  his  joyful  emotions. 

Not  less  was  the  pleasure  in  the  study  of  the  Pro- 
fessor ;  he  went  hastily  through  the  book  from  begin- 
ning to  end.  "  It  is  remarkable,"  he  then  said,  much 
pleased,  to  Use,  "how  boldly  and  firmly  Fritz  grap- 
ples with  the  subject;  and  with  a  self-control,  too,  for 
which  I  should  not  have  given  him  credit.  There  is 
much  in  it  that  is  quite  new  to  me.  I  am  surprised 
that  he  should  have  concluded  the  work  so  quickly, 
and  quietly." 

What  the  learned  world  thought  of  the  Doctor's 
book  may  be  known  from  many  printed  eulogies.  It 
is  more  difficult  to  determine  what  effect  it  had  in  his 
own  street.  Mr.  Hummel  studied  a  detailed  review 
of  the  work  in  his  paper,  not  without  audible  remarks 
of  disapprobation  however  ;  he  hummed  at  the  word 
Veda  and  grumbled  at  the  name  Humboldt,  and  he 
whistled  through  his  teeth  at  the  praise  which  was 
accorded  to  the  deep  learning  of  the  author.  When 


320  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

at  the  conclusion  the  reviewer  formally  thanked  the 
Doctor  in  the  name  of  science,  and  urgently  recom- 
mended the  work  to  all  readers,  Mr.  Hummel's  hum- 
ming broke  into  the  melody  of  the  old  Dessauer,  and 
he  threw  the  paper  on  the  table.  "  I  do  not  intend  to 
buy  it,"  was  all  that  he  vouchsafed  to  say  to  his  wife 
and  daughter.  But  in  the  course  of  the  day  he  cast 
an  occasional  glance  at  the  corner  of  the  hostile  house 
where  the  Doctor's  room  was,  and  then  again  at  the 
upper  story  of  his  own  house,  as  if  he  wished  to  weigh 
the  comparative  merits  of  both  the  learned  men  and 
their  abodes. 

When  Use  told  Laura  her  husband's  opinion  of  the 
book,  Laura  colored  a  little,  and  replied,  throwing 
back  her  head :  "I  hope  it  is  so  learned  that  we  need 
not  meddle  with  it."  Yet  this  disinclination  to  meddle 
with  the  book  did  not  prevent  her  some  days  later 
from  borrowing  the  book  from  the  Professor,  upon  the 
plea  that  she  wished  to  show  it  to  her  mother.  It  was 
carried  to  her  own  little  room,  where  it  remained  for  a 
long  time. 

Among  the  other  inhabitants  of  the  street,  the  im- 
portance of  the  Hahn  family — whose  name  had  ac- 
quired such  renown,  and  whose  Fritz  was  praised  so 
much  in  the  papers — was  greatly  increased.  The 
scales  of  popular  favor  sank  decidedly  on  the  side  of 
this  house,  and  even  Mr.  Hummel  found  it  expedient 
not  to  object  to  his  family's  speaking  with  moderate 
approbation  of  their  neighbor's  son.  When  Dorchen, 
as  sometimes  happened,  met  Gabriel  in  the  streets, 
she  even  ventured  to  accompany  him  for  a  few  min- 
utes into  the  courtyard  of  the  enemy,  in  spite  of  the 
growling  of  the  dog  and  the  sinister  frowns  of  the 
master. 


THE    DECEPTION    OF    MR.     HUMMEL.  321 

One  warm  evening  in  March  she  had  said  a  few 
civil  words  to  Gabriel  in  passing  and  was  tripping 
neatly  across  the  street  to  her  own  house,  with  Gabriel 
looking  after  her  full  of  admiration,  when  Mr.  Hum- 
mel came  out  just  in  time  to  witness  the  last  greeting. 

"She  is  as  pretty  as  a  red-breast,"  said  Gabriel  to 
Mr.  Hummel.  The  latter  shook  his  head  benevolently. 
I  well  see,  Gabriel,  how  the  wind  blows,  and  I  say 
nothing,  for  it  would  be  of  no  use.  But  one  piece  of 
good  advice  I  will  give  you.  You  do  not  understand 
how  to  deal  with  women  ;  you  are  not  gruff  enough 
with  the  girl.  When  I  was  young  they  trembled  at 
the  faintest  movement  of  my  handkerchief,  and  yet 
they  swarmed  about  me  like  bees.  This  sex  must  be 
intimidated  and  you'll  spoil  all  by  kindness.  I  think 
well  of  you  Gabriel,  and  I  give  you  this  counsel  there- 
fore as  a  friend.  Look  you,  there  is  Madame  Hum- 
mel. She  is  a  strong-willed  woman,  but  I  always  keep 
her  under  restraint  ;  if  I  didn't  growl,  she  would. 
And,  as  there  must  be  growling,  it  is  more  agreeable 
for  me  to  do  it  myself." 

"  Every  animal  has  its  ways,"  replied  Gabriel.  "  I 
have  no  talent  for  developing  into  a  bear." 

"  It  can  be  learnt,"  said  Mr.  Hummel,  benignantly. 
He  raised  his  eye-brows,  and  made  a  sly  grimace. 
Something  is  in  progress  in  the  garden  over  there  ; 
they  are  probably  speculating  again  on  some  new  ar- 
rival, to  which  I,  in  due  time,  shall  take  upon  myself, 
under  all  circumstances,  to  give  the  right  name  " — he 
lowered  his  voice — ;  "something anonymous  has  been 
unpacked,  and  brought  out  into  the  garden."  With 
a  feeling  of  indignation  at  his  own  caution,  he  con- 
tinued :  "Believe  me,  Gabriel,  the  world  is  growing 
cowardly  from  this  over-production  of  children  ;  and 


322  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

people  are  so  crowded  that  freedom  ceases  to  exist ; 
life  is  now  slavery  from  the  cradle  to  the  grave.  Here 
I  stand  on  my  own  ground,  and  if  I  choose  to  dig  a 
hole  on  this  spot  to  the  centre  of  the  earth,  no  man 
can  prevent  me  ;  and  yet,  on  my  own  property,  we 
cannot  express  an  outspoken  opinion  ;  and  why?  Be- 
cause it  might  be  heard,  and  displease  the  ears  of 
strangers.  To  such  a  point  have  we  come  ;  a  man  is 
the  slave  of  his  neighbors.  Now,  only  think,  I  have 
but  one  neighbor  opposite  ;  on  the  other  side  I  am 
protected  by  the  water  and  the  factory,  yet  I  must 
swallow  the  truth,  as  I  dare  not  speak  out  beyond  my 
boundary.  He  who  is  surrounded  on  all  sides  by 
neighbors  must  lead  a  lamentable  life  ;  he  cannot  even 
cut  off  his  head  in  his  own  garden  without  the  whole 
neighborhood  raising  a  cry  because  the  sight  is  not 
pleasing  to  them."  He  pointed  with  his  thumb  to  the 
neighboring  house,  and  continued,  confidentially  : 
''We  are  reconciled  now  ;  the  women  would  not  rest 
until  we  were.  I  assure  you  they  lacked  the  true  spirit 
to  carry  on  a  quarrel  over  there  ;  the  affair  became 
tedious  and  so  I  gave  in." 

"Yet  it  is  well  that  all  is  settled,"  said  Gabriel. 
"  If  the  fathers  quarrel,  how  can  the  children  meet  on 
good  terms  ?  " 

"Why  shouldn't  they  make  faces  at  each  other?" 
returned  Mr.  Hummel,  crossly.  "I  can't  bear  this 
everlasting  bowing  and  scraping." 

"  Every  one  knows  that,"  replied  Gabriel.  "  But 
if  Miss  Laura  meets  the  Doctor  in  our  house,  which 
often  happens,  she  surely  cannot  growl  at  him." 

"So  they  meet  often  !  "  repeated  Hummel,  thought- 
fully. "There  again  you  have  an  instance  of  this 
overcrowding  ;  they  can't  get  out  of  each  other's  way. 


THE    DECEPTION    OF    MR.    HUMMEL.  323 

Well !  I  can  trust  to  my  daughter,  Gabriel ;  she  has 
my  disposition." 

"  I  wouldn't  be  so  sure  of  that, "  replied  Gabriel 
laughing. 

"  I  assure  you  she  is  quite  of  my  mind,"  affirmed 
Hummel,  decidedly.  "But,  as  to  this  cessation  of 
hostilities,  you  need  not  rejoice  so  much  at  it;  for, 
depend  upon  it,  it  cannot  last  long  between  our  houses. 
When  the  ice  has  thawed,  and  the  garden  amusements 
begin,  there  will  be  trouble  again.  It  has  always 
been  so  and  I  do  not  see  why  it  should  not  continue 
so,  in  spite  of  reconciliations,  and  in  spite  of  your 
new  mistress,  for  whom  I  nevertheless  have  great  re- 
spect." 

The  conversation,  which  had  been  carried  on  in 
the  garden,  was  interrupted  by  a  dark,  solemn-looking 
man,  who  presented  a  large  letter  in  a  tinted  envelope. 
He  introduced  himself  to  Mr.  Hummel,  and  brought 
him  an  invitation  for  his  absent  daughter  to  undertake 
the  office  of  godmother  to  a  baby  that  had  j  ust  been  born 
to  limit  the  space  in  the  world  still  more.  To  this  in- 
vitation no  objection  could  be  made ;  the  young 
mother,  the  wife  of  a  lawyer,  was  Laura's  friend,  and 
the  daughter  of  her  godmother.  It  was  an  old  con- 
nection of  the  family,  and  Hummel,  as  father  and 
citizen,  duly  accepted  the  invitation. 

"For  whom  is  the  other  letter  you  have  in  your 
hand  ?  "  he  asked  of  the  messenger. 

"  For  Doctor  Hahn,  who  is  to  stand  with  Miss 
Laura." 

"Indeed!"  said  Hummel,  ironically;  "matters 
are  going  at  a  great  pace.  Take  your  letter  over 
there.  Did  I  not  tell  you  so,  Gabriel  ?  "  he  added, 
turning  to  his  confidant.  "Scarcely  reconciled  be- 


324  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

fore  the  tribunal,  and  at  once  sponsors  together ;  who 
may  know  but  that  to-morrow  morning  the  old  scare- 
crow himself  will  come  over  and  offer  to  be  'hail-fel- 
low-well-met '  with  me.  There  again  you  have  the 
consequences  of  over-crowding,  and  of  Christianity 
too.  This  time  my  poor  child  is  the  victim." 

He  took  the  letter  into  the  room  and  threw  it  on 
the  table  before  his  wife  and  daughter. 

"This  comes  from  reconciliation,  weak  women," 
he  cried,  tauntingly.  Now  you  will  have  nurse,  mid- 
wife, godfather,  and  all,  about  your  heels." 

The  ladies  studied  the  letter,  and  Laura  thought 
it  inconsiderate  in  her  godmother  to  have  chosen  just 
the  Doctor  for  her  partner. 

"That's  to  accommodate  the  sponsor's  carriage," 
exclaimed  Mr.  Hummel,  mockingly,  from  the  corner. 
"  It  was  made  to  carry  two  at  once.  Now,  that  fellow 
Humboldt  will  come  over  here  in  white  gloves  in  order 
to  fetch  you  to  church,  and  I  believe  he  will  have  impu- 
dence enough  to  send  you  a  sponsorial  present. " 

"If  he  did  not  do  so,  it  would  be  an  insult,"  re- 
plied the  wife.  "  He  must  do  it,  or  it  would  give  occa- 
sion for  people  to  talk.  We  cannot  object  to  it ;  he 
will  send  a  basket  of  flowers  with  gloves  for  the  god- 
mother, and  Laura  will  send  him  in  return  the  pocket- 
handkerchief,  as  is  the  custom  among  our  acquaint- 
ances. You  know  that  Laura's  godmother  thinks  a 
great  deal  of  these  things." 

"His  flowers  in  our  house,  his  gloves  on  our  fin- 
gers, and  our  handkerchief  in  his  pocket  !  "  said  the 
master  of  the  house,  bitterly;  "Pray,  what  are  things 
coming  to." 

"I  beg  of  you,  Hummel,"  rejoined  his  wife,  dis- 
pleased, "do  not  annoy  us  by  finding  fault  with  the 


THE    DECEPTION    OF    MR.     HUMMEL.  325 

civilities  which  are  unavoidable  on  such  an  occasion, 
and  of  which  no  one  takes  advantage." 

"I  thank  you  for  your  civilities  which  one  cannot 
avoid,  and  to  which  no  one  attributes  anything.  Noth- 
ing is  so  insupportable  to  me,  among  the  people  here, 
as  their  eternal  obeisances  before  one's  face,  whilst 
they  pull  one  to  pieces  behind  one's  back." 

He  left  the  room  and  slammed  the  door  behind 
him. 

The  mother  then  began  : 

"  He  has  nothing  really  to  say  against  it ;  he  only 
wishes  to  maintain  his  character  for  sternness.  It  is 
not  absolutely  necessary  that  )7ou  should  send  the 
Doctor  a  present  on  this  occasion,  but  you  still  owe 
him  some  little  attention  from  that  encounter  with  the 
shepherd." 

Laura  was  reconciled  to  the  thought  of  becoming 
godmother  with  the  Doctor,  and  said  : 

"  I  will  make  a  design  for  the  corner  of  the  hand- 
kerchief, and  will  embroider  it." 

The  following  morning  she  went  out  to  buy  cam- 
bric. But  Mr.  Hummel  also  went  out.  He  visited 
an  acquaintance  who  was  a  furrier,  took  him  confiden- 
tially aside,  and  ordered  a  pair  of  gloves  of  white 
cat's  skin  for  a  small  hand  ;  he  directed  that  a  cat's 
claw  be  fastened  at  the  point  of  each  finger.  But  he 
wished  it  to  be  a  delicate  one,  of  an  unborn  cat,  or 
failing  in  that,  of  a  very  young  kitten,  and  that  the 
claw  should  stand  out  stiffly.  Then  he  entered  another 
shop  and  asked  for  some  colored  printed  cotton  pocket- 
handkerchiefs — such  as  one  buys  for  a  few  pennies — 
and  chose  one  black  and  red,  with  a  frightful  portrait, 
that  just  suited  his  frame  of  mind.  This  purchase  he 
put  in  his  pocket. 


326  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

The  morning  of  the  christening  arrived.  In  the 
house  of  Mr.  Hummel  the  flat-irons  clattered  ;  the 
mother  added  some  last  stitches  ;  and  Laura  tripped 
busily  up  and  down  the  stairs.  Meanwhile,  Hummel 
wandered  back  and  forth  between  the  door  of  the 
house  and  factory,  watching  every  person  that  entered. 
Spitehahn  was  sitting  on  the  threshold  growling  when- 
ever the  foot  of  a  stranger  approached  the  door  of  the 
house. 

"Show  yourself  as  you  are,  Spitehahn,"  grumbled 
Hummel,  approaching  his  dog;  "and  catch  hold  of 
the  woman  from  yonder  by  the  dress ;  she  will  not 
venture  in,  if  you  keep  watch." 

The  red  dog  answered  by  showing  his  teeth   mali- 
ciously at  his  master. 

"That's  right,"  said  Hummel,  and  continued  his 
walk. 

At  last  Dorchen  appeared  at  her  own  house-door, 
and  tripped  with  a  covered  basket  in  her  hand  to  the 
steps  of  Mr.  Hummel's  house.  Spitehahn  rose  grimly, 
uttered  a  hoarse  growl,  and  bristled  his  hair. 

"  Call  that  frightful  dog  away,  Mr.  Hummel,"  cried 
Dorchen,  snappishly.  "I  have  a  message  for  Miss 
Laura." 

Mr.  Hummel  assumed  a  benevolent  expression  of 
countenance  and  put  his  hand  in  his  pocket. 

"  The  ladies  are  at  work,  my  pretty  child,"  he  said, 
drawing  out  a  heavy  piece  of  money ;  "perhaps  I  can 
attend  to  it." 

The  messenger  was  so  startled  at  the  unexpected 
politeness  of  the  tyrant,  that  she  made  a  mute  courtesy 
and  let  the  basket  slip  out  of  her  hand. 

"  It  shall  be  attended  to  carefully,"  completed  Mr. 
Hummel,  with  an  engaging  smile. 


THE    DECEPTION    OF    MR.     HUMMEL.  327 

He  carried  the  basket  into  the  house,  and  called 
Susan  to  take  it  to  the  ladies ;  after  which  he  went 
into  the  hall  again,  and  stroked  the  dog.  It  was  not 
long  before  he  heard  the  door  of  the  sitting-room  fly 
open  and  his  name  called  loudly  in  the  hall.  He  en- 
tered cautiously  into  the  ladies'  room,  and  found  them 
in  a  dreadful  state  of  disturbance.  A  beautiful  basket 
was  standing  on  the  table,  flowers  were  scattered 
about,  and  two  little  fur  gloves,  with  large  claws  at 
the  ends  of  the  fingers,  lay  on  the  floor,  like  paws  cut 
from  a  beast  of  prey.  Laura  was  sitting  before  them 
sobbing. 

"  Holloa  !"  cried  Mr.  Hummel,  "  is  that  one  of  the 
sponsorial  pleasantries  ?  " 

"  Henry,"  cried  his  wife  vehemently,  "your  child 
has  received  an  insult ;  the  Doctor  has  dared  to  send 
these  to  your  daughter." 

"Ha!"  cried  Hummel;  "cat's  paws,  and  with 
claws  !  Why  not  ?  They  will  keep  you  warm  in  church ; 
you  can  lay  hold  of  the  Doctor  with  them." 

"It  must  be  a  joke,"  cried  Laura,  with  the  hot 
tears  flowing  down  her  cheeks  ;  "it  is  because  I  have 
sometimes  teased  him.  I  should  never  have  believed 
him  capable  of  such  rudeness." 

"Do  you  know  him  so  well  ?  "  inquired  Mr.  Hummel. 
"Well,  if  it  is  a  joke,  as  you  say,  take  it  as  a  joke 
then;  this  emotion  isn't  necessary." 

"What  is  to  be  done  now?"  cried  the  mother ;  "can 
she  still  stand  godmother  with  him  after  this  insult?" 

"I  should  think  so,"  replied  Mr.  Hummel,  ironi- 
cally; "this  insult  is  a  childish  affair  compared  to 
others — compared  to  house-building,  bell-ringing,  and 
dog-poisoning.  If  you  can  stomach  all  that,  why  not 
cats'  paws,  too?" 


328  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

"Laura  has  hemmed  and  embroidered  a  handker- 
chief for  him,"  exclaimed  the  mother;  "and  she  had 
taken  the  greatest  pains  to  finish  it  in  time." 

"I  will  not  send  it  to  him,"  cried  Laura. 

"So  you  hemmed  and  embroidered  it  yourself?" 
rejoined  Hummel.  "It  is  charming  to  live  in  friend- 
ship with  one's  neighbors.  You  are  weak  women- 
folk, and  you  take  the  matter  too  seriously.  These 
are  courtesies  which  one  cannot  avoid,  and  to  which 
no  importance  is  attached.  Do  as  you  said  you  would. 
You  must  just  send  the  thing  over  to  him.  You  must 
not  give  him  or  any  one  else  occasion  to  make  re- 
marks. Keep  your  contempt  to  yourself." 

"Father- is  right,"  cried  Laura,  springing  up; 
"away  with  the  handkerchief,  and  my  account  with 
the  Doctor  will  be  closed  for  ever." 

"That's  right,"  assented  Hummel.  "Where  is 
the  rag?  Away  with  it." 

The  handkerchief  lay  ready  on  a  plate,  wrapped 
up  in  fine  blue  paper,  and  also  covered  with  spring 
flowers. 

"So  this  is  the  hemmed  and  embroidered  thing? 
We  will  send  it  over  immediately." 

He  took  the  plate  from  the  table,  and  carried  it 
quickly  into  the  factory;  from  thence  the  blue  packet 
went,  with  many  compliments,  to  the  godfather  in  the 
house  of  the  enemy. 

Mrs.  Hahn  brought  the  card  of  greeting  and  the 
present  to  her  son's  room. 

"Ah,  that  is  a  charming  attention,"  remarked  the 
Doctor,  closely  examining  the  flowers. 

"  It  is  not  so  customary  now-a-days  to  send  pres- 
ents to  the  gentlemen  too,"  said  the  Doctor's  mother. 
"But  I  always  thought  it  such  a  pretty  custom." 


THE    DECEPTION    OF    MR.     HUMMEL.  329 

She  unfolded  the  paper  inquisitively,  and  looked 
up  in  astonishment.  A  printed  cotton  handkerchief 
lay  within,  as  thick  as  leather  and  woven  with  coarse 
threads.  It  might  be  a  mask  only,  and  in  this  hope 
she  unfolded  it,  but  a  frightful  caricature  alone  ap- 
peared in  diabolical  colors  of  red  and  black. 

"That  is  not  a  nice  joke,"  said  the  mother,  vexed. 

The  Doctor  looked  downcast.  "  I  have  sometimes 
teased  Laura  Hummel.  This  probably  has  reference 
to  some  bantering  that  has  passed  between  us.  I  beg 
of  you,  mother,  to  place  the  flowers  in  a  glass." 

He  took  the  handkerchief,  concealed  it  in  a  drawer, 
and  again  bent  over  his  writing. 

"I  should  not  have  expected  this  of  Laura,"  con- 
tinued the  mother,  much  disturbed.  But  as  her  son 
did  not  encourage  further  complaints,  she  arranged 
the  flowers  for  him  and  left  the  room,  pondering  upon 
the  mortification  of  her  child. 

The  carriage  drove  up  and  the  Doctor  got  into  it 
to  fetch  the  godmother. 

"Our  doors  are  so  near  together,"  said  Hummel, 
who  was  standing  at  the  window,  "that  he  will  only 
just  have  time  to  creep  out  from  the  other  side." 

After  some  difficulty  in  turning,  the  carriage  ar- 
rived at  the  steps  of  Mr.  Hummel.  The  servant 
opened  the  door,  but  before  the  Doctor  could  jump 
down  Susan  appeared  on  the  steps  and  called  out  : 

"Do  not  take  the  trouble  of  entering,  the  young 
lady  will  come  immediately." 

Laura  swept  down  the  steps,  all  in  white  as  if 
veiled  in  a  snowcloud  ;  and  how  pretty  she  looked  ! 
Her  cheeks  were  indeed  paler  than  usual,  and  her 
brows  were  gloomily  knit,  but  the  sad  expression  gave 
an  enchanting  dignity  to  her  countenance.  She  avoided 


330  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

looking  at  the  Doctor,  only  slightly  moving  her  head 
at  his  greeting,  and  when  he  offered  his  hand  to  assist 
her,  she  passed  by  him  and  seated  herself  in  her  place 
as  if  he  were  not  there.  He  had  some  difficulty  in 
finding  room  next  to  her ;  she  nodded,  ignoring  him, 
to  Mr.  Hummel,  who  was  standing  on  the  steps  look- 
ing far  more  cheerful  than  his  child.  The  horses  trot- 
ted slowly  on  ;  Laura  looked  neither  to  the  right  nor 
to  the  left.  "It  is  the  first  time  she  officiates  as  god- 
mother," thought  the  Doctor,  "that  causes  this  solemn 
mood ;  or  perhaps  she  is  repentant  because  of  the  col- 
ored handkerchief !  "  He  looked  at  her  hands  ;  the 
gloves  that  he  sent  were  not  to  be  seen.  "  Have  I 
offended  against  etiquette?"  he  thought  again,  "or 
were  they  too  large  for  her  little  hands  ?" 

"He  is  silent,"  she  thought,  "that  is  his  bad  con- 
science ;  he  is  thinking  of  the  cat's  claws,  and  has  not 
a  word  of  thanks  for  my  pocket-handkerchief;  I  have 
been  sadly  mistaken  in  him. "  This  consideration  made 
her  so  sorrowful  that  tears  again  rose  to  her  eyes  ;  but 
she  pressed  her  lips  tightly  together,  squeezed  the 
thumb  of  her  right  hand,  and  silently  counted  from 
one  up  to  ten,  an  old  recipe  she  had  formerly  used  for 
restraining  vehement  feeling." 

"Thingscannot  goon  so,"  thought  the  Doctor,  "I 
must  speak  to  her." 

"You  have  not  been  able  to  use  the  gloves  that  I 
ventured  to  send  you,"  he  began  modestly  ;  "I  fear  I 
have  made  a  bad  selection." 

This  was  too  much ;  Laura  turned  her  head  sharply 
toward  the  Doctor.  For  a  moment  he  saw  two  flash- 
ing eyes,  and  heard  the  contemptuous  words  :  "I  am 
no  cat."  Again  her  lips  were  compressed,  and  she 
clenched  her  hand  convulsively. 


THE    DECEPTION    OF    MR.     HUMMEL.  331 

Fritz  reflected  with  astonishment  whether  gloves 
that  wrinkle  could  ever  have  been  considered  a  charac- 
teristic sign  of  our  domestic  animal.'  He  thought  the 
remark  incongruous.  "What  a  pity  she  is  so  whim- 
sical !  "  After  a  time  he  began  again  :  "I  fear  you 
will  feel  the  draught ;  shall  I  close  the  window  ?  " 

"Not  at  all,"   answered  Laura,  with  icy  coldness. 

"Do  you  know  what  the  baby  is  to  be  called?" 
continued  the  doctor. 

"  He  is  to  be  called  Fritz, "  returned  Laura;  and 
for  the  second  time  a  flaming  look  of  anger  met  his 
spectacles,  then  she  turned  away  again. 

Ah  !  in  spite  of  the  lightning  that  flashed  from  her 
eyes,  the  Doctor  could  not  deny  but  that  she  was  at 
this  moment  wonderfully  lovely.  She  also  felt  obliged 
to  say  something  now,  and  began,  over  her  shoul- 
der : — 

"  I  think  the  name  a  very  common  one." 

"It  is  my  own  name,"  said  the  Doctor ;  "and  as  I 
hear  it  every  day,  I  must  agree  with  you.  It  is  at  least 
a  German  name,"  he  added,  good-humoredly.  "It 
is  a  pity  that  they  are  so  much  neglected." 

"As  my  name  is  a  foreign  one,"  replied  Laura, 
again  over  her  shoulder,  "I  have  aright  to  prefer 
foreign  names." 

"  If  she  continues  like  this  the  whole  day,"  thought 
Fritz,  discouraged,  "  I  shall  have  a  very  pleasant  time 
of  it,  indeed." 

"  I  must  sit  next  him  at  dinner,  and  bear  the  in- 
sult," thought  she.  "Ah  !  life  is  terrible." 

"^jThey  arrived  at  the  house,  both  glad  to  find  them- 
selves among  others.  When  they  entered  the  room, 
they  hurried  to  different  parts  of  it ;  but,  of  course, 
being  obliged  to  greet  the  young  mother,  thty  again 


332  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

had  to  meet.  When  Laura  turned  to  her  godmother, 
the  Doctor  also  approached  from  the  other  side,  and 
the  good  lady  called  to  mind  the  day  when  they  had 
come  together  to  her  summer  residence,  and  she  could 
not  refrain  from  exclaiming  :  "That  portends  some- 
thing ;  you  have  again  come  together,  dear  children." 

Laura  raised  her  head  proudly,  and  replied  : 
"  Only  because  you  have  wished  it." 

They  went  to  church.  The  little  Fritz  tossed  about 
in  his  godmother's  arms,  frightened  at  the  baptismal 
font ;  but  when  he  was  handed  over  to  the  tall  Fritz, 
he  broke  out  into  an  angry  cry ;  and  Laura  observed 
with  contempt  how  disconcerted  the  Doctor  was,  and 
what  awkward  efforts  he  made,  by  raising  and  lower- 
ing his  arms,  and  by  his  looks,  to  appease  the  little 
squaller,  till  at  last  the  nurse — a  very  resolute  woman 
— came  to  his  assistance. 

With  the  approach  of  sunset  the  duties  of  the  day 
became  more  insupportable.  At  the  christening  feast 
all  Laura's  most  gloomy  anticipations  were  fulfilled, 
for  she  was  seated  beside  the  Doctor;  and,  for  both,  it 
was  a  most  disagreeable  meal,  indeed.  The  Doctor 
once  more  ventured  to  make  some  advances,  hoping  to 
break  through  her  incomprehensible  mood,  but  he 
might  as  well  have  attempted  to  thaw  the  ice  of  a 
glacier  with  alucifer  match,  for  Laura  had  now  become 
an  adept  in  the  expression  of  social  contempt.  She 
conversed  exclusively  with  the  father  of  the  child,  who 
sat  at  her  other  side,  and  encouraged  by  his  cheerful  gos- 
sip she  recovered  her  wonted  elasticity  of  spirit;  while 
Fritz  became  more  silent,  and  noticeably  neglecjjed  a 
pleasing  young  woman,  his  left-hand  neighbor.  But 
things  grew  still  worse.  When  the  proper  time  ap- 
proached*, the  other  godfather,  a  city  councillor,  a  man 


THE    DECEPTION    OF    MR.     HUMMEL.  333 

of  the  world  and  a  good  speaker,  came  behind  the 
Doctor's  chair,  and  declared  that  he  could  not  under- 
take to  bring  the  christening  toast  as  he  was  suffering 
with  a  headache,  which  drove  away  all  his  thoughts, 
and  that  the  Doctor  must  speak  in  his  stead.  The 
possibility  of  this  had  never  occurred  to  the  Doctor, 
and  it  was  so  unpleasant  to  him  in  his  present  mood 
that  he  quietly,  but  firmly,  refused  his  consent  to  the 
proposal.  Laura  again  listened  with  deep  contempt 
to  the  discussion  between  the  two  gentlemen  about  an 
oratorical  exercise  which  was  not  even  to  be  put  in 
writing.  The  master  of  the  house  also  observed  it, 
and  a  feeling  of  awkward  expectation  threw  a  gloom 
over  the  society,  which  is  not  calculated  to  encourage 
unwilling  after-dinner  speakers,  but  rather  to  depress 
them,  and  scatter  their  thoughts.  Just,  however,  as 
the  Doctor  was  on  the  point  of  performing  his  duty, 
Laura,  after  giving  him  another  cold  look,  rose  and 
clinked  her  glass.  She  was  greeted  with  a  loud  bravo ; 
and  she  then  said,  to  the  astonishment  of  herself,  and 
delight  of  all  present :  "  As  the  gentlemen  sponsors  are 
so  little  inclined  to  do  their  duty,  I  crave  your  pardon  for 
undertaking  what  they  ought  to  have  done."  There- 
upon, she  bravely  proposed  and  led  the  toast ;  it  was 
a  bold  undertaking,  but  it  was  successful,  and  she  was 
overwhelmed  with  applause.  On  the  other  hand,  sar- 
castic speeches  were  made  against  the  Doctor  by  the 
gentlemen  present.  Nevertheless,  he  extricated  himself 
tolerably,  the  situation  being  so  desperate  that  it  re- 
stored to  him  his  powers  ;  nay,  he  had  the  impudence 
to  declare  that  he  delayed  intentionally,  in  order  to 
procure  for  the  society  the  pleasure  which  all  must 
have  experienced  in  listening  to  the  eloquence  of  his 
neighbor.  He  then  made  an  amusing  speech  on 


334  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

every  possible  subject ;  and  all  laughed,  but  they  did 
not  know  what  he  was  aiming  at,  till  he  adroitly  turned 
it  upon  the  godfathers  and  godmothers  and  in  particular 
proposed  the  health  of  his  charming  neighbor  who  sat 
beside  him.  This  answered  well  enough  for  the  other 
guests,  but  to  Laura  it  was  insufferable  mockery  and 
hypocrisy  ;  and  when  she  had  to  clink  glasses  with  him, 
she  looked  so  indignantly  at  him,  that  he  quickly 
drew  back  from  her. 

He  now  began  to  show  his  indifference  after  his 
fashion  ;  he  talked  loudly  to  his  neighbor,  and  drank 
many  glasses  of  wine.  Laura  drew  her  chair  away 
from  him  ;  fearing  that  he  might  drink  too  much,  he 
became  an  object  of  annoyance  to  her,  and  she  gradually 
relapsed  into  silence.  But  the  Doctor  took  no  heed  of 
this ;  again  he  clinked  his  glass,  and  made  another 
speech,  which  was  so  comical  that  it  produced  the 
happiest  effect  on  the  company.  But  Laura  sat  as 
stiff  as  a  stone  image,  only  casting  an  occasional 
stolen  glance  towards  him.  After  that  the  Doctor  left 
her  side;  his  chair  stood  vacant,  but,  figuratively 
speaking,  the  cotton  pocket-handkerchief  and  the 
small  fur  gloves  still  lay  upon  it,  and  it  seemed  quite 
uneasy  under  its  invisible  burden.  The  Doctor,  mean- 
while, went  about  the  table,  stopping  here  and  there 
to  pay  his  respects ;  and  wherever  he  stopped  there 
was  laughing  and  clinking  of  glasses.  .  When  he  had 
finished  his  round,  he  approached  the  host  and  hostess ; 
and  Laura  heard  them  thank  him  for  the  merry  even- 
ing, and  praise  the  gaiety  of  his  spirits. 

He  then  returned  to  his  place  ;  and  now  he  hjfl  the 
impudence  to  turn  to  Laura,  and,  with  an  expression 
in  which  she  clearly  perceived  a  sneer,  he  held  out  his 
hand  to  her  under  the  table,  saying,  "  Let  us  make 


THE    DECEPTION    OF    MR.    HUMMEL.  335 

peace,  naughty  godmother;  give  me  your  hand." 
Laura's  whole  heart  revolted,  and  she  exclaimed, 
"You  shall  have  my  hand  immediately."  She  put  her 
hand  quickly  into  her  pocket,  put  on  one  of  the  cat's- 
skin  gloves,  and  scratched  him  with  it  on  the  back  of 
his  hand.  "There,  take  what  you  deserve." 

The  Doctor  felt  a  sharp  pain  ;  he  raised  his  hand, 
and  he  perceived  it  was  tattooed  with  red  streaks. 
Laura  threw  her  glove  into  his  lap,  and  added  :  "  If 
I  were  a  man,  I  would  make  you  feel  in  another  way 
the  insult  you  have  offered  me." 

The  Doctor  looked  about  him  ;  his  left-hand  neigh- 
bor had  risen  ;  and  on  the  other  side,  the  master  of  the 
house,  bending  over  the  table,  formed  a  convenient 
wall  between  them  and  the  outer  world.  He  looked 
in  astonishment  at  the  challenge  in  his  lap ;  it  was  all 
incomprehensible  to  him  ;  he  was  conscious  but  of 
one  thing,  that  Laura,  in  spite  of  her  passion,  was  en- 
chantingly  beautiful. 

He  too  put  his  hand  into  his  pocket,  and  said  : 
"Happily,  I  am  in  a  position  to  bind  your  present  of 
this  morning  about  the  wounds."  He  pulled  out  the 
red  and  black  handkerchief,  and  began  to  wind  it 
round  his  wounded  hand  ;  in  doing  which,  it  could 
not  fail  being  seen  that  the  hand  had  a  most  uncanny 
murderous  appearance.  When  Laura  saw  the  bloody 
scratches,  she  was  shocked,  but  she  bravely  concealed 
her  repentance,  saying  coldly,  "At  least  it  would  be 
better  for  your  hand  if  you  would  take  my  handker- 
chief as  a  bandage,  instead  of  that  stiff  clumsy  thing." 

'ilt  is  your  handkerchief,"  replied  the  Doctor,  sor- 
rowfully. 

"This  is  worst  of  all,"  cried  Laura,  with  quivering 
voice.  "  You  have  behaved  towards  me  to-day  in  a 


336  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

manner  that  is  highly  humiliating   to  me,  and  I  ask 
you  what  have  I  done  to  deserve  such  treatment  ?  " 

"What  have  I  done  to  deserve  such  reproaches?" 
asked  the  Doctor,  in  return.  "This  morning  you  sent 
me  this  with  your  compliments. 

"I?"  cried  Laura;  "you  sent  me  these  cat's 
paws.  But  I  did  not  send  that  handkerchief.  My 
handkerchief  had  none  of  the  beauty  of  this  colored 
print — it  was  only  white." 

11 1  may  say  the  same  of  my  gloves  ;  they  were  not 
blessed  with  claws — they  were  plain  kid." 

Laura  turned  to  him,  anxiously  gazing  into  his 
face.  "  Is  that  true?" 

"  It  is  true,"  said  the  Doctor,  with  convincing  sin- 
cerity ;  "I  know  nothing  about  these  gloves." 

"Then  we  are  both  victims  of  a  deception,"  cried 
Laura,  confounded.  "Oh,  forgive  me,  and  forget 
what  has  passed."  Guessing  the  state  of  the  case, 
she  continued  :  "I  beg  of  you  to  say  no  more  on  the 
subject.  Permit  me  to  bind  your  hand  with  this  hand- 
kerchief." 

He  held  out  his  hand  ;  she  staunched  the  blood 
with  her  handkerchief,  and  hastily  wound  it  about  the 
scratches. 

"It  is  too  small  for  a  bandage,"  she  said,  sorrow- 
fully ;  "we  must  put  your  own  over  it.  This  has  been 
a  disagreeable  day,  Doctor.  Oh,  forget  it,  and  do  not 
be  angry  with  me." 

The  Doctor  was  by  no  means  inclined  to  be  angry, 
as  might  be  perceived  from  the  eager  conversation 
into  which  they  now  fell.  Their  hearts  were  lightened  ; 
they  vied  with  each  other  in  their  efforts  at  sincerity ; 
and  when  the  carriage  set  them  down  at  their  own 
doors,  they  bade  each  other  a  cordial  good-night. 


THE    DECEPTION    OF    MR.     HUMMEL.  337 

The  following  morning,  Mr.  Hummel  entered 
Laura's  private  room,  and  laid  a  blue  paper  upon  the 
table. 

"There  was  a  mistake  yesterday,"  he  said;  "here 
is  what  belongs  to  you." 

Laura  opened  the  paper  quickly ;  it  contained  an 
embroidered  handkerchief. 

"  I  have  also  sent  back  the  gloves  to  the  Doctor, 
with  my  compliments,  informing  him  that  there  was  a 
misunderstanding,  and  that  /,  your  father,  Hummel, 
sent  him  what  was  his  own." 

"Father,"  cried  Laura,  going  up  to  him,  "this 
new  insult  was  unnecessary.  Upon  me  you  may  in- 
flict whatever  your  hatred  to  your  neighbors  prompts 
you  to  do,  but  that  you  should  again  wound  another 
after  what  has  happened  yesterday,  is  cruel  of  you.  This 
handkerchief  belongs  to  the  Doctor,  and  I  shall  give 
it  to  him  at  the  first  opportunity." 

"Exactly,"  said  Hummel;  "was  it  not  hemmed  and 
embroidered  by  your  own  hands?  You  are  responsible 
for  whatever  you  do  now.  But  you  know,  and  he 
knows  too,  how  I  feel  about  these  exchanges  of  civili- 
ties. If  you  choose  to  act  contrary  to  my  expressed 
wishes,  you  may.  I  will  not  consent  to  our  house  be- 
ing upon  terms  of  exchanging  presents,  either  small 
or  great,  with  the  Hahn's;  and  since  you,  as  I  hear, 
often  meet  the  Doctor  at  our  lodger's,  it  will  be  as  well 
for  you  to  bear  this  in  mind." 

He  went  out  of  the  room  complacently,  and  left  his 
daughter  in  revolt  against  his  harsh  commands.  She 
had  not  ventured  to  contradict  him,  for  he  was  un- 
usually calm  to-day,  different  from  his  ordinary  bluster- 
ing manner,  and  she  felt  there  was  a  meaning  in  his 


338  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

words  that  checked  her  utterance  and  sent  the  blood  to 
her  cheeks.  It  was  a  stormy  morning  for  her  journal. 

Mr.  Hummel  was  busy  at  his  office  with  a  con- 
signment of  soldiers'  caps,  when  he  was  disturbed  by 
a  knock  at  the  door,  and  to  his  surprise,  Fritz  Hahn 
entered.  Hummel  remained  seated  with  dignity,  till 
his  caller  had  made  a  respectful  bow,  then  he  slowly 
rose,  and  began,  in  a  business  tone  : 

"What  can  I  do  for  you,  Doctor  ?  If  you  need  a 
fine  felt  hat,  as  I  presume  you  do,  the  salesroom  is  on 
the  floor  below." 

"  I  know  that,"  replied  the  Doctor,  politely.  "But 
I  am  come,  in  the  first  place,  to  thank  you  for  the 
handkerchief  you  so  kindly  selected  and  sent  me  as  a 
present  yesterday." 

"  That's  pretty  good  !  "  said  Hummel.  "  Old  Blu- 
cher  was  painted  upon  it ;  he  is  a  countryman  of  mine, 
and  I  thought  on  that  account  the  handkerchief  would 
be  acceptable  to  you." 

"  Quite  right,"  answered  Fritz.  "I  shall  be  careful 
to  preserve  it  as  a  keepsake.  I  must,  at  the  same 
time,  add  to  my  thanks  the  request  that  you  will  de- 
liver these  gloves  to  Miss  Laura.  If  a  mistake  oc- 
curred yesterday  in  the  delivery,  as  you  kindly  in- 
formed me,  it  was  not  my  fault.  As  these  gloves  al- 
ready belong  to  your  daughter,  I,  of  course,  cannot 
take  them  back." 

"That's  better  still!"  said  Hummel,  "but  you 
are  in  error.  The  gloves  do  not  belong  to  my  daugh- 
ter ;  they  were  bought  by  you,  and  have  never  been 
seen  by  her ;  and  early  this  morning  they  were  re- 
turned to  their  possessor." 

"  Pardon  me,"  rejoined  Fritz,  "  if  I  take  your  own 
words  as  testimony  against  you  ;  the  gloves  were  yes- 


THE    DECEPTION    OK    MR.     HUMMEL.  339 

terday,  according  to  the  custom  of  the  country,  sent 
as  a  present  to  Miss  Laura  ;  you  yourself  received 
them  from  the  hands  of  the  messenger,  and,  by  your 
words,  acknowledged  them.  The  gloves,  therefore, 
by  your  own  co-operation,  have  become  the  property 
of  the  young  lady,  and  I  have  no  claim  to  them." 

"No  advocate  could  put  the  case  in  a  better 
light, "  replied  Hummel  easily.  "There  is  only  one 
objection  to  it.  These  gloves  were  non-apparent ; 
they  were  covered  with  paper  and  flowers,  like  frogs 
in  the  grass.  Had  you  come  to  me  openly  with  your 
gloves,  and  requested  to  be  allowed  to  give  them  to 
my  daughter,  I  should  have  told  you  yesterday  what 
I  now  say,  that  I  consider  you  a  worthy  young  man, 
and  that  I  have  no  objection  to  your  standing  as  god- 
father every  day  in  the  year,  but  I  do  very  much  ob 
ject  to  your  showing  my  daughter  what  hereabouts 
are  called  attentions.  I  am  not  kindly  disposed  to- 
wards your  family  and,  what  is  more,  I  do  not  wish 
to  be  ;  therefore  I  cannot  permit  that  you  should  be 
so  towards  mine.  For  what  is  right  for  one  is  fitting 
for  the  other." 

"I  am  placed  again  in  the  unfortunate  predica- 
ment of  confuting  you  by  your  own  actions,"  rejoined 
the  Doctor.  "You,  yesterday,  honored  me  with  a 
mark  of  civility.  As  you  have  made  me  a  present  of 
a  handkerchief,  in  token  of  your  favor,  to  which,  as  I 
had  not  stood  godfather  with  you,  I  had  no  claim,  I 
also  may  say  that  what  is  right  for  one  is  fitting  for 
the  other.  Therefore  you  cannot  object  to  my  sending 
these  gloves  to  a  member  of  your  family." 

Mr.  Hummel  laughed.  "With  all  respect  to  you, 
Doctor,  you  have  forgotten  that  father  and  daughter 
are  not  quite  the  same  thing.  I  have  no  objection 


34-O  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

that  you  should  occasionally  make  me  a  present  if  you 
cannot  resist  the  inclination  to  do  so  ;  I  shall  then 
consider  what  I  can  send  you  in  return ;  and  if  you 
think  that  these  gloves  will  suit  me,  I  will  keep  them 
as  a  token  of  reconciliation  between  us  ;  and  if  ever 
we  should  itand  together  as  godfathers,  I  shall  put 
them  on  and  exhibit  them  for  your  benefit." 

"  I  have  delivered  them  to  you  as  the  property  of 
your  daughter,"  replied  Fritz,  with  composure;  "how 
you  may  dispose  of  them  I  cannot  decide.  You  know 
my  wishes." 

"Yes,  perfectly,  Doctor,"  assented  Hummel;  "the 
affair  is  now  settled  to  the  satisfaction  of  all  con- 
cerned, and  there  is  an  end  of  it." 

"Not  quite  yet,"  replied  the  Doctor.  "What  now 
comes  is  a  demand  I  have  upon  you.  Miss  Laura,  as 
godmother  with  me,  prepared  and  sent  me  a  hand- 
kerchief. The  handkerchief  has  not  come  into  my 
hands,  but  I  have  undoubtedly  the  right  to  consider 
it  as  my  property,  and  I  beg  of  you  most  humbly  to 
send  it  to  me." 

"  Oho  !  "  cried  Hummel,  the  bear  beginning  to  stir 
within  him,  "that  looks  like  defiance,  and  must  be 
met  with  different  language.  You  shall  not  receive 
the  handkerchief  with  my  good  will ;  it  has  been  given 
back  to  my  daughter,  and  if  she  presents  it  to  you  she 
will  act  as  a  disobedient  child,  contrary  to  the  com- 
mands of  her  father. " 

"Then  it  is  my  intention  to  oblige  you  to  recall 
this  prohibition,"  replied  the  Doctor,  energetically. 
"Yesterday  I  accidentally  discovered  that  you  ex- 
changed the  gloves  I  sent  to.  Miss  Laura  for  others 
which  must  have  excited  in  her  the  belief  that  I  was 
an  impertinent  jester.  By  such  deceitful  and  injurious 


THE    DECEPTION    OF    MR.    HUMMEL.  341 

treatment  of  a  stranger,  even  though  he  were  an  ad- 
versary, you  have  acted  as  does  not  become  an  honor- 
able man." 

Hummel's  eyes  widened,  and  he  retreated  a  few 
steps. 

"Zounds  !  "  he  growled,  "is  it  possible?  Are  you 
your  father's  son?  Are  you  Fritz  Hahn,  the  young 
Humboldt?  Why  you  can  be  as  rude  as  a  boor." 

"  Only  where  it  is  necessary,"  replied  Fritz.  "  In 
my  conduct  towards  you  I  have  never  been  deficient 
in  delicacy  of  feeling  ;  but  you  have  treated  me  with 
injustice,  and  owe  me  due  satisfaction.  As  an  honor- 
able man  you  must  give  me  this,  and  my  satisfaction 
will  be  the  handkerchief." 

"Enough,"  interrupted  Hummel,  raising  his  hand, 
"it  will  be  of  no  avail.  For,  between  ourselves,  I 
have  nothing  of  what  you  call  delicacy  of  feeling.  If 
you  feel  yourself  offended  by  me,  I  should  be  very 
sorry,  in  so  far  as  I  see  in  you  a  young  man  of  spirit, 
who  also  can  be  rude.  But  when,  on  the  other  hand, 
I  consider  that  you  are  Fritz  Hahn,  I  convince  myself 
that  it  is  quite  right  that  you  should  feel  aggrieved  by 
me.  With  that  you  must  rest  content." 

"What  you  say,"  replied  Fritz,  "is  not  only  un- 
civil, but  unjust.  I  leave  you,  therefore,  with  the 
feeling  that  you  owe  me  some  reparation  ;  and  this 
feeling  is,  at  all  events,  more  agreeable  to  me  than  if 
I  were  in  your  position." 

"I  see  we  understand  each  other  in  everything," 
replied  Hummel.  "  Like  two  business  men,  we  both 
seek  our  own  advantage.  It  is  agreeable  to  you  to  feel 
that  I  have  injured  you,  and  to  me  that  is  a  matter  of 
indifference.  So  let  it  remain,  Doctor;  we  are  at 


342  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

heart,  and  before  all  the  world,  enemies,  but  for  the 
rest,  all  respect  to  you. " 

The  Doctor  bowed  and  left  the  office. 

Mr.  Hummel  looked  meditatingly  on  the  spot  where 
the  Doctor  had  stood. 

He  was  during  the  whole  day  in  a  mild,  philan- 
thropic mood,  which  he  at  first  showed  by  philoso- 
phizing with  his  book-keeper. 

"  Have  you  ever  raised  bees?"  he  asked  him,  over 
the  counter. 

"No,  Mr.  Hummel,"  replied  he;  "how  could  I 
manage  it?" 

"  You  are  not  very  enterprising,"  continued  Hum- 
mel, reproachfully.  "Why  should  you  not  give  your- 
self this  pleasure?" 

"  I  live  in  a  garret,  Mr.  Hummel." 

"  That  does  not  matter.  By  the  new  inventions 
you  may  keep  bees  in  a  tobacco-box.  You  put  the 
swarm  in,  open  the  window,  and  from  time  to  time 
cut  your  honey  out.  You  might  become  a  rich  man 
by  it.  .You  will  say  that  these  insects  might  sting 
your  fellow-lodgers  and  neighbors;  do  not  mind  that; 
such  views  are  old-fashioned.  Follow  the  example 
of  certain  other  people,  who  place  their  bee-hives 
close  to  the  street  in  order  to  save  the  expense  for 
sugar." 

The  book-keeper  seemed  to  wish  to  comply  with 
this  proposition. 

"  If  you  mean —      "  he  replied  humbly. 

"  The  devil  I  mean,  sir,"  interrupted  Hummel; 
"do  not  think  of  coming  to  my  office  with  a  swarm  of 
bees  in  your  pocket.  I  am  determined  under  no  cir- 
cumstances to  suffer  such  a  nuisance.  I  am  Bumble- 


THE    DECEPTION    OF    MR.     HUMMEL.  343 

bee  enough  for  this  street  and  I  object  to  all  hum- 
ming and  swarming  about  my  house  and  garden." 

In  the  afternoon,  when  he  was  taking  a  walk  in 
the  garden  with  his  wife  and  daughter,  he  suddenly 
stopped. 

"What  was  it  that  flew  through  the  air?" 

"  It  was  a  beetle,"  said  his  wife. 

"  It  was  a  bee/'  said  Hummel.  "Are  this  rabble 
beginning  to  fly  about.  If  there  is  anything  I  detest, 
it  is  bees.  Why  there  is  another.  They  annoy  you, 
Phillipine." 

"  I  cannot  say  so,"  she  replied. 

A  few  minutes  after,  a  bee  flew  about  Laura's  curls, 
and  she  was  obliged  to  protect  herself  with  a  parasol 
from  the  little  worker,  who  mistook  her  cheeks  for  a 
peach. 

"  It  is  strange;  they  were  not  so  numerous  for- 
merly," said  Hummel,  to  the  ladies;  "  it  seems  to  me 
that  a  swarm  of  bees  must  have  established  itself  in  a 
hollow  tree  of  the  park.  The  park-keeper  sleeps  out 
there  on  a  bench.  You  are  on  good  terms  with  the 
man;  call  his  attention  to  it.  The  vermin  are  insuf- 
ferable." 

Madam  Hummel  consented  to  make  inquiries,  and 
the  park-keeper  promised  to  look  to  it.  After  a  time 
he  came  to  the  hedge,  and  called  out,  in  a  low  voice: 

"Madam  Hummel." 

"The  man  calls  you,"  said  Hummel. 

"  They  come  from  the  garden  of  Mr.  Hahn,"  re- 
ported the  park-keeper,  cautiously;  "there  is  a  bee- 
hive there." 

"  Really?"  asked  Hummel.  "  Is  it  possible  that 
Hahn  should  have  chosen  this  amusement?" 

Laura  looked  at  her  father  anxiously. 


344  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

"  I  am  a  peaceful  man,  keeper,  and  I  cannot  be- 
lieve my  neighbor  would  do  us  such  an  injury." 

"  It  is  certain,  Mr.  Hummel,"  said  the  park-keeper; 
"  see,  there  is  one  of  the  yellow  things  now." 

"  That's  so,"  cried  Hummel,  shaking  his  head;  "  it's 
yellow." 

"  Don't  mind,  Henry;  perhaps  it  will  not  be  so 
bad,"  said  his  wife,  soothingly. 

"  Not  so  bad?"  asked  Hummel,  angrily.  "  Shall  I 
have  to  see  the  bees  buzzing  around  your  nose?  Shall 
I  have  to  suffer  my  wife  to  go  about  the  whole  sum- 
mer with  her  nose  swollen  up  as  large  as  an  apple? 
Prepare  a  room  for  the  surgeon  immediately:  he  will 
never  be  out  of  our  house  during  the  next  month." 

Laura  approached  her  father. 

"  I  can  see  you  wish  to  begin  a  quarrel  anew  with 
our  neighbors:  if  you  love  me,  do  not  do  so.  I  cannot 
tell  you,  father,  how  much  this  quarreling  annoys  me. 
Indeed  I  have  suffered  too  much  from  it." 

"  I  believe  you,"  replied  Hummel,  cheerfully.  "But 
it  is  because  I  love  you  that  I  must  in  good  time  put 
an  end  to  this  annoyance  from  over  there,  before  these 
winged  nuisances  carry  away  honey  from  our  garden. 
I  don't  intend  to  nave  you  attacked  by  the  bees  of 
any  of  our  neighbors,  do  you  understand  me?" 

Laura  turned  and  looked  gloomily  in  the  water, 
on  which  the  fallen  catkins  of  the  birch  were  swim- 
ming slowly  towards  the  town. 

"Do  something,  keeper,  to  preserve  peace  between 
neighbors,"  continued  Hummel.  "  Take  my  compli- 
ments to  Mr.  Hahn,  with  the  request  from  me  that  he 
will  remove  his  bees,  so  that  I  may  not  be  obliged  to 
call  in  the  police  again." 

"  I  will  tell  him,  Mr.  Hummel,  that   the  bees  are 


THE    DECEPTION    OF    MR.    HUMMEL.  345 

disagreeable  to  the  neighborhood;  for  it  is  true  the 
gardens  are  small." 

"  They  are  so  narrow  that  one  could  sell  them  in  a 
bandbox  at  a  Christmas  fair,"  assented  Hummel. 
"  Do  it  out  of  pity  to  the  bees  themselves.  Our  three 
daffodils  will  not  last  them  long  as  food,  and  after- 
wards there  will  be  nothing  for  them  but  to  gnaw  the 
iron  railings." 

He  gave  the  park-keeper  a  few  coppers,  and  ad- 
ded, to  his  wife  and  daughter: 

"  You  see  how  forbearing  I  am  to  our  neighbor, 
for  the  sake  of  peace." 

The  ladies  returned  to  the  house,  depressed  and 
full  of  sad  forebodings. 

As  the  park-keeper  did  not  appear  again,  Mr.  Hum- 
mel watched  for  him  on  the  following  day. 

"Well,  how  is  it?"  he  asked. 

"  Mr.  Hahn  thinks  that  the  hives  are  far  enough 
from  the  street;  they  are  behind  a  bush  and  they 
annoy  no  one.  He  will  not  give  up  his  rights." 

"  There  it  is!"  broke  out  Hummel.  "You  are  my 
witness  that  I  have  done  all  in  the  power  of  man  to 
avoid  a  quarrel.  The  fellow  has  forgotten  that  there 
is  a  Section  167.  I  am  sorry,  keeper;  but  the,police 
must  be  the  last  resort." 

Mr.  Hummel  conferred  confidentially  with  a  po- 
liceman. Mr.  Hahn  became  excited  and  angry  when 
he  was  ordered  to  appear  in  court,  but  Hummel  had 
in  some  measure  the  best  of  it,  for  the  police  advised 
Mr.  Hahn  to  avoid  annoyance  to  the  neighbours  and 
passers-by  by  the  removal  of  the  hive.  Mr.  Hahn 
had  taken  great  pleasure  in  his  bees;  their  hive  had 
been  fitted  with  all  the  new  improvements,  and  they 
were  not  like  our  irritable  German  bees;  they  were  an 


346  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

Italian  sort,  which  only  sting  when  provoked  to  the 
utmost.  But  this  was  all  of  no  avail,  for  even  the 
Doctor  and  his  mother  herself  begged  that  the  hives 
might  be  removed;  so,  one  dark  night  they  were  car- 
ried away,  with  bitter  and  depressed  feelings,  into  the 
country.  In  the  place  which  they  had  occupied  he 
erected  some  starlings'  nests  on  poles.  They  were  a 
poor  comfort.  The  starlings  had,  according  to  old 
customs,  sent  messengers  of  their  race  through  the 
country  and  hired  their  summer  dwellings,  and  only  the 
sparrow's  took  exulting  possession  of  the  abode,  and 
like  disorderly  householders,  left  long  blades  of  grass 
hanging  from  their  nests.  Mr.  Hummel  shrugged  his 
shoulders  contemptuously,  and  in  a  loud  bass  voice, 
called  the  new  invention  the  sparrow  telegraph. 

The  garden  amusements  had  begun;  the  sad  prog- 
nostication had  become  a  reality;  suspicion  and  gloomy 
looks  once  more  divided  the  neighboring  houses. 

CHAPTER  XVIII.. 

CLOUDLETS. 

A  Professor's  wife  has  much  to  bear  with  her  hus- 
band. When  Use  found  herself  seated  with  her 
friends,  the  wives  of  Professors  Raschke,  Struvelius, 
and  Giinther,  over  a  cozy  cup  of  coffee,  which  was  by 
no  means  slighted,  all  manner  of  things  came  to 
light. 

Conversation  with  these  cultured  ladies  was  in- 
deed delightful.  It  first  touched  lightly  on  the  sub- 
ject of  servants,  and  the  troubles  of  housekeeping 
called  forth  a  volubility  of  chatter,  like  the  croaking 
of  frogs  in  a  pond,  and  Use  wondered  that  even  Flamina 
Struvelius  should  express  herself  so  earnestly  on  the 
subject  of  pickling  gherkins,  and  that  she  should 


CLOUDLETS.  347 

anxiously  inquire  as  to  the  marks  of  age  on  a  plucked 
goose.  Merry  Mrs.  Giinther  shocked  the  ladies 
of  greater,  experience  and  at  the  same  time  made 
them  laugh,  when  she  told  them  she  could  not  bear 
the  cry  of  little  children,  and  that  as  to  her  own — of 
which  she  had  none  yet — she  would  from  the  begin- 
ning train  them  to  quiet  habits  with  the  rod.  As  has 
been  said,  the  conversation  rambled  from  greater 
matters  to  small  talk  like  this.  And  amidst  other 
trivial  remarks  it  naturally  happened  that  men  were 
quietly  discussed,  and  it  was  evident  that,  although 
the  remarks  were  made  as  to  men  in  general,  each 
thought  of  her  own  husband,  and  each,  without  ex- 
pressing it,  thought  of  the  secret  load  of  cares  she  had 
to  bear,  and  each  one  convinced  her  hearers  that  her 
own  individual  husband  was  also  difficult  to  manage. 
The  lot  of  Mrs.  Raschke  was  indeed  not  to  be  con- 
cealed, as  it  was  notorious  throughout  the  whole 
town.  It  was  well  known  that  one  market-day  her 
husband  went  to  the  lecture-room  in  a  brilliant  orange 
and  blue  dressing-gown,  of  a  Turkish  pattern.  And 
the  collegians,  who  loved  him  dearly  and  knew  his 
habits  well,  could  not  suppress  a  loud  laugh,  while 
Raschke  hung  his  dressing-gown  quietly  over  the 
reading-desk  and  began  to  lecture  in  his  shirt  sleeves, 
and  returned  home  in  the  great-coat  of  a  student. 
Since  then  Mrs.  Raschke  never  let  him  go  out  without 
looking  after  him  herself.  It  also  transpired  that  after 
living  ten  years  in  the  town  he  constantly  lost  his  way, 
and  she  did  not  dare  to  change  her  residence,  being 
convinced  that  if  she  did,  the  Professor  would  always 
be  going  back  to  his  old  abode.  Struvelius  also  gave 
trouble.  The  last  affair  of  importance  had  come  to 
Use's  personal  knowledge;  but  it  was  also  known  that 


348  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

he  required  his  wife  to  correct  the  proof-sheets  of  his 
Latin  writings,  as  she  had  a  slight  knowledge  of  the 
language — and  that  he  could  not  resist  giving  orders 
to  traveling  wine  merchants.  Mrs.  Struvelius,  after 
her  marriage,  found  her  cellar  full  of  large  and  small 
casks  of  wine,  which  had  as  yet  not  been  bottled, 
while  he  himself  complained  bitterly  that  he  could  not 
replenish  his  stock.  And  even  little  Mrs.  Giinther 
related  that  her  husband  could  not  give  up  working 
at  night;  and  that  on  one  occasion,  poking  about  with 
a  lamp  amongst  the  books,  he  came  too  close  to  a 
curtain,  which  caught  fire,  and  on  pulling  it  down  he 
burnt  his  hands,  and  rushed  into  the  bedroom  with 
his  fingers  black  as  coals,  more  like  an  Othello  than. 
a  mineralogist. 

Use  related  nothing  of  her  short  career,  but  she 
had  also  had  some  experience.  True,  her  husband 
was  very  good  about  working  at  night,  was  very  dis- 
creet over  his  wine,  though  on  great  occasions  he 
drank  his  glass  bravely,  as  became  a  German  Pro- 
fessor. But  as  to  his  eating,  matters  were  very  unsatis- 
factory. Certainly  it  does  not  do  to  care  too  much 
about  food,  especially  for  a  Professor,  but  not  to  be 
able  to  distinguish  a  duck  from  a  goose  is  rather  dis- 
couraging for  her  who  has  striven  to  procure  him  a 
a  dainty.  As  for  carving  he  was  useless.  The  tough 
Stymphalian  birds  which  Hercules  destroyed,  and  the 
ungenial  Phrenix,  mentioned  with  such  respect  by  his 
Tacitus,  were  much  better  known  to  him  than  the 
form  of  a  turkey.  Use  was  not  one  of  those  women 
who  delight  to  spend  the  whole  day  in  the  kitchen, 
but  she  understood  cooking,  and  prided  herself  on 
giving  a  dinner  worthy  of  her  husband.  But  all  was 
in  vain.  He  sometimes  tried  to  praise  the  dishes,  but 


CLOUDLETS.  349 

Use  clearly  saw  that  he  was  not  sincere.  Once  when 
she  set  a  splendid  pheasant  before  him,  he  saw  by  her 
expression  that  she  expected  some  remark,  so  he 
praised  the  cook  for  having  secured  such  a  fine 
chicken.  Use  sighed  and  tried  to  make  him  under- 
stand the  difference,  but  had  to  be  content  with  Ga- 
briel's sympathizing  remark:  "  It's  all  useless.  I  know 
my  master;  he  can't  tell  one  thing  from  another!" 
Since  then,  Use  had  to  rest  content  with  the  compli- 
ments that  the  gentlemen  invited  to  tea  paid  her  at 
the  table.  But  this  was  no  compensation.  The  Doer 
tor  also  was  not  remarkable  for  his  acquirements  in 
this  direction.  It  was  lamentable  and  humiliating  to 
see  the  two  gentlemen  over  a  brace  of  snipes  which 
her  father  had  sent  them  from  the  country. 

The  Professor,  however,  looked  up  to  the  Doctor 
as  a  thoroughly  practical  man,  because  he  had  had 
some  experience  in  buying  and  managing,  and  the 
former  was  accustomed  to  call  in  his  friend  as  an  ad- 
viser on  many  little  daily  occurrences.  The  tailor 
brought  samples  of  cloth  for  a  new  coat.  The  Pro- 
fessor looked  at  the  various  colors  of  the  samples  in  a 
distracted  manner.  "Use,  send  for  the  Doctor  to 
help  me  make  a  choice!"  Use  sent,  but  unwillingly; 
no  Doctor  was  needed,  she  thought,  to  select  a  coat, 
and  if  her  dear  husband  could  not  make  up  his  mind, 
was  not  she  there?  But  that  was  of  no  avail;  the 
Doctor  selected  the  coat,  waistcoat,  and  the  rest  of 
the  Professor's  wardrobe.  Use  listened  to  the  orders 
in  silence,  but  she  was  really  angry  with  the  Doctor, 
and  even  a  little  with  her  husband.  She  quietly  de- 
termined that  things  should  not  continue  so.  She 
hastily  calculated  her  pocket-money,  called  the  tailor 
into  her  room,  and  ordered  a  second  suit  for  her  hus- 


350 


THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 


band,  with  the  injunction  to  make  this  one  first. 
When  the  tailor  brought  the  clothes  home,  she  asked 
her  husband  how  he  liked  the  new  suit.  He  praised 
it.  Then  she  said:  "To  please  you  I  make  myself  as 
nice-looking  as  I  can:  for  my  sake  wear  what  I  have 
made  for  you.  If  I  have  succeeded  this  time,  I  hope 
that  I  may  in  future  choose  and  be  responsible  for 
your  wardrobe." 

But  the  Doctor  looked  quite  amazed  when  he  met 
the  Professor  in  a  different  suit.  It  so  happened, 
however,  that  he  had  nothing  to  find  fault  with;  and 
when  Use  was  sitting  alone  with  the  Doctor,  she 
began — 

"Both  of  us  love  my  husband;  therefore  let  us 
come  to  some  agreement  about  him.  You  have  the 
greatest  right  to  be  the  confidant  of  his  labors,  and  I 
should  never  venture  to  place  myself  on  an  equality 
with  you  respecting  them.  But  where  my  judgment 
is  sufficient  I  may  at  least  be  useful  to  him,  and  what 
little  I  can,  dear  Doctor,  pray  allow  me  to  do." 

She  said  this  with  a  smile;  but  the  Doctor  walked 
gravely  up  to  her. 

"  You  are  expressing  what  I  have  long  felt.  I 
have  lived  with  him  for  many  years,  and  have  often 
lived  for  him,  and  that  was  a  time  of  real  happiness 
to  me;  but  now  I  fully  recognize  that  it  is  you  who 
have  the  best  claim  to  him.  I  shall  have  to  endeavor 
to  control  myself  in  many  things;  it  will  be  hard  for 
me,  but  it  is  better  it  should  be  so." 

"  My  words  were  not  so  intended,"  said  Use,  dis- 
turbed. 

"  I  well  understand  what  you  meant;  and  I  know 
also  that  you  are  perfectly  right.  Your  task  is  not 
alone  to  make  his  life  comfortable.  I  see  how  earn- 


CLOUDLETS.  351 

escly  you  strive  to  become  his  confidant.  Believe  me, 
the  warmest  wish  of  my  heart  is  that  in  time  you 
should  succeed." 

He  left  with  an  earnest  farewell,  and  Use  saw  how 
deeply  moved  he  was.  The  Doctor  had  touched  a 
chord,  the  vibration  of  which,  midst  all  her  happiness, 
she  felt  with  pain.  Her  household  affairs  gave  her 
little  trouble,  and  all  went  so  smoothly  that  she  took 
no  credit  to  herself  for  her  management.  But  still  it 
pained  her  to  see  how  little  her  work  was  appreciated 
by  her  husband,  and  she  thought  to  herself,  "  What  I 
am  able  to  do  for  him  makes  no  impression  on  him, 
and  when  I  cannot  elevate  my  mind  to  his,  he  probably 
feels  the  want  of  a  soul  that  can  understand  him 
better." 

These  were  transient  clouds  which  swept  over  the 
sunny  landscape,  but  they  came  again  and  again  as 
Use  sat  brooding  alone  in  her  room. 

One  evening,  Professor  Raschke  having  looked  in 
late,  showed  himself  disposed  to  pass  the  evening 
with  them,  and  Felix  sent  the  servant  to  the  Professor's 
wife,  to  set  her  mind  at  rest  as  to  the  absence  of  her 
husband.  As  Raschke,  among  all  her  husband's  col- 
leagues, was  Use's  favorite,  she  took  pains  -to  order 
something  that  would  please  him.  This  order  doomed 
to  death  some  chickens  that  shortly  before  had  been 
brought  in  alive.  The  gentlemen  were  sitting  in. Use's 
room  when  a  dreadful  scream  and  clamor  issued  from  the 
kitchen,  and  the  cook,  pale  as  death,  opened  the  door 
and  appealed  to  her  mistress.  It  appeared  that  the 
girl's  heart  failed  her  in  attempting  to  kill  the  fowls 
and  as  Gabriel,  who  had  hitherto  performed  all  such 
necessary  slaughter,  was  absent,  she  did  not  know 
what  to  do,  so  Use  herself  had  to  perform  the  indis- 


352  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

pensable  act.  When  she  returned,  Felix  unfortunately 
asked  why  she  had  left  the  room,  and  Use  told  him 
what  had  occurred. 

The  chickens  were  placed  upon  the  table  and  did  the 
cook  no  discredit.  Use  carved  and  served  them,  but 
her  husband  pushed  back  his  plate,  whilst  Raschke, 
out  of  politeness,  picked  at  the  breast,  but  forbore  to 
eat  a  morsel.  Use  regarded  the  two  gentlemen  with 
astonishment. 

"You  do  not  eat  anything,  Professor?"  she  at  last 
said  to  her  guest,  anxiously. 

"  It  is  only  a  morbid  weakness,"  replied  Raschke, 
"  and  it's  very  foolish  indeed,  but  the  screams  of  the 
poor  bird  still  linger  in  my  ear." 

"And  in  yours,  too,  Felix?"  asked  Use,  with  in- 
creasing wonderment. 

"  Yes,"  rejoined  he.  "  Is  it  not  possible  to  have 
these  things  done  quietly?" 

"Not  always,"  answered  Use,  mortified,  "when 
the  house  is  so  small,  and  the  kitchen  so  near."  She 
rang  and  ordered  the  ill-fated  dish  to  be  taken  away. 
"  Those  who  can't  bear  things  to  be  killed  should  eat 
no  meat." 

"You  are  quite  right,"  replied  Raschke,  submis- 
sively, "  and  our  sensitiveness  has  but  little  justifica- 
tion. We  find  the  preparations  unpleasant,  yet  as  a 
rule  we  are  well  satisfied  with  the  result.  But  when 
one  is  accustomed  to  observe  animal  life  with  sym- 
pathy, he  is  necessarily  shocked  at  the  sudden  termina- 
tion of  an  organism  for  his  own  selfish  purposes,  when 
it  is  done  in  a  way  to  which  he  is  not  accustomed. 
For  the  whole  life  of  an  animal  is  full  of  mystery  to 
us.  The  same  vital  power  which  we  observe  in  our- 
selves, is  fundamentally  at  work  with  them,  only 


CLOUDLETS.  353 

limited  by  a  less  complicated,  and,  on  the  whole,  less 
complete  organization." 

"  How  can  you  compare  their  souls  with  that  of 
man's?"  asked  Use;  "  the  irrational  with  the  rational; 
the  transitory  with  the  eternal?" 

"As  to  irrational,  my  dear- lady,  it  is  a  word  to 
which  in  this  case  one  does  not  attach  a  very  clear 
meaning.  What  the  difference  may  be  between  man 
and  beast  is  difficult  to  decide,  and  on  this  subject  a 
little  modesty  becomes  us.  We  know  but  little  of 
animals,  even  of  those  who  pass  their  lives  among  us. 
And  I  confess  that  the  attempt  to  fathom  this  un- 
known problem  fills  me  with  awe  and  reverence,  which 
occasionally  rises  into  fear.  I  cannot  bear  that  any 
one  who  belongs  to  me  should  grow  fond  of  an  animal. 
This  arises  from  a  weakness  of  feeling  which  I  own  is 
sentimental.  But  the  influence  of  the  human  mind  on 
animals  has  always  seemed  to  me  wonderful  and 
weird  ;  phases  of  their  life  are  developed,  which  in 
certain  directions  make  them  very  similar  to  man. 
Their  affectionate  devotion  to  us  has  something  so 
touching  in  it,  that  we  are  disposed  to  bestow  much 
more  love  on  them  than  is  good  either  for  them  or 
us." 

"  Still  an  animal  remains  what  it  was  from  the 
creation,"  said  Use  ;  "unchanged  in  its  habits  and  in- 
clinations. We  can  train  a  bird,  and  make  a  dog 
fetch  and  carry  what  he  would  rather  eat,  but  that  is 
only  an  outward  compulsion.  If  let  to  themselves, 
their  nature  and  manners  remain  unaltered,  and  what 
we  call  culture  they  lack  utterly." 

"Even  upon  that  point  we  are  by  no  means  sure," 
rejoined  Raschke.  "  We  do  not  know  but  that  each 
race  of  animals  has  a  history  and  an  evolution 


354  THE  LOST  MANUSCRIPT. 

which  extends  from  the  earliest  generation  to  the 
present.  It  is  not  at  all  impossible  that  acquirements 
and  knowledge  of  the  world,  so  far  as  they  may  exist 
in  animals,  have  acted  among  them,  though  in  a  nar- 
rower sphere,  just  as  with  men.  It  is  quite  an  assump- 
tion that  birds  sang  just  the  same  way  a  thousand 
years  ago  as  they  do  now.  I  believe  that  the  wolf  and 
the  lynx,  in  cultivated  regions,  stand  on  the  same 
footing  in  the  struggle  for  life  as  do  the  remnants  of 
the  red  Indians  among  the  whites;  whilst  those  ani- 
mals that  live  in  comparative  peace  with  man,  like 
sparrows  and  other  small  creatures,  and  bees  especi- 
ally, improve  in  their  mode  of  work,  and  in  the  course 
of  time  make  progress — progress  which  we  in  some 
cases  surmise,  but  which  our  science  has  not  yet  been 
able  to  describe." 

"  Our  forester  would  quite  agree  with  you  in  this," 
said  Use,  quietly;  "as  he  complains  bitterly  that  the 
bullfinches  of  our  neighborhood  have,  within  his 
memory,  quite  deteriorated  in  their  singing,  because 
all  the  good  singers  have  been  caught,  and  the  young 
birds  have  no  one  to  teach  them." 

"Exactly,"  said  Raschke;  "among  animals  of 
every  species  there  are  clever  and  stupid  individuals, 
and  it  must  follow  that  to  some  of  them  is  assigned 
a  definite1  spiritual  mission  which  extends  far  beyond 
their  own  life.  And  the  experience  of  an  old  raven, 
or  the  enchanting  notes  of  a  melodious  nightingale, 
are  not  lost  on  the  future  generations  of  their  race, 
but  influence  them  continuously.  In  this  sense  we 
may  well  speak  of  culture  and  continued  improve- 
ment among  animals.  But  as  regards  the  cooking,  I 
admit  that  we  exhibited  our  sympathies  at  the  wrong 


CLOUDLETS.  355 

time  and  place,  and  I  hope  you  are  not  angry  with  us, 
dear  friend." 

"It  shall  all  be  forgotten  now,"  replied  Use,  "I 
will  give  you  boiled  eggs  the  next  time;  they  will  in- 
volve no  scruples." 

"  Ths  egg,  too,  has  its  story,"  answered  Raschke; 
"but  for  the  present,  I  may  fitly  waive  discussing 
this.  What  has  brought  me  here,"  addressing  Felix, 
earnestly,  "was  neither  fowls  nor  eggs,  but  our  col- 
league, Struvelius.  I  am  seeking  forgiveness  for 
him." 

Felix  drew  himself  up  stiffly.  "  Has  he  commis- 
sioned you  to  come?" 

"Not  exactly;  but  it  is  the  wish  of  some  of  our  col- 
leagues. You  know  that  next  year  we  require  an  en- 
ergetic Rector.  Some  of  our  acquaintance  are  speak- 
ing of  you.  Struvelius  will  probably  be  Deacon,  and 
for  this  reason  we  wish  to  bring  you  into  friendly  re- 
lations; and  still  more  for  the  sake  of  peace  at  the 
University.  We  regret  exceedingly  to  see  our  classi- 
cists at  variance." 

"What  the  man  has  done  to  me,"  replied  the  Pro- 
fessor, proudly,  "  I  can  easily  forgive<  although  his 
mean  and  underhand  conduct  has  deeply  offended 
me.  I  feel  much  more  seriously  the  effect  of  his  fool- 
ish work  upon  himself  and  our  University.  What 
separates  me  from  him  is  the  dishonesty  of  spirit  that 
has  actuated  his  conduct." 

"The  expression  is  too  strong,"  cried  Raschke. 

"  It  applies  to  his  behavior  exactly,"  returned  the 
Professor.  "When  the  forgery  was  pointed  out  to 
him,  his  fear  of  humiliation  was  greater  than  his  love 
of  truth,  and  he  lied  in  order  to  deceive  others — con- 


356  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

duct  unworthy  of  a  German  professor,  and  I  can 
never  forgive  it." 

"Again  you  are  too  severe,"  replied  Raschke;  "he 
has  frankly  and  loyally  admitted  his  error." 

"He  did  so  only  when  Magister  Knips  and  others 
clearly  proved  the  forgery  that  had  been  committed 
in  the  manuscript,  and  so  made  any  further  evasion 
impossible." 

"  Human  feelings  are  not  so  easy  to  analyze  as 
numbers  are,"  rejoined  Raschke;  "  and  only  he  who 
judges  charitably,  judges  rightly.  He  struggled  with 
wounded  pride  perhaps  too  long,  but  he  gave  in  at 
last." 

"  I  tolerate  no  unknown  quantity  in  the  sense  of 
honor  of  a  scientist;  the  question  here  was:  Black 
or  white?  Truth  or  falsehood?" 

"You  have,  nevertheless,"  said  Use,  "shown  the 
Magister  much  greater  leniency,  and  I  have  seen  him 
with  you  since,  more  than  once." 

"The  Magister  was  less  to  blame  in  the  matter," 
her  husband  replied.  "  When  the  question  was 
clearly  before  him,  he  employed  his  acuteness  to  some 
purpose." 

"  He  took  money  for  it,"  said  Use. 

"  He  is  a  poor  devil,  accustomed,  as  a  broker,  to 
take  his  profits  on  any  exchange  of  antiquities,  and 
no  one  would  expect  in  such  a  transaction  that  he 
should  act  like  a  gentleman.  So  far  as  his  oppressed 
spirit  belongs  to  science,  it  is  not  without  a  sort  of 
manly  pride;  and  I  have  the  warmest  sympathy  for  a 
nature  of  that  kind.  His  life  on  the  whole  is  a  con- 
tinual martyrdom  to  the  interests  of  others;  and  when 
I  employ  such  a  man,  I  know  exactly  how  far  to  trust 
him." 


CLOUDLETS.  357 

"Do  not  deceive  yourself  in  that!"  cried  Raschke. 

"  I  shall  take  the  risk  and  the  responsibility,"  re- 
plied the  Professor.  "  But  have  done  with  the  Ma- 
gister — it  is  not  he  who  is  in  question.  When  I  com- 
pare his  offense  with  that  of  Struvelius,  there  is  no 
doubt  in  my  mind  as  to  who  has  shown  the  greater 
deficiency  in  sense  of  honor. 

"This  again  is  so  unjust,"  cried  Raschke,  "that 
I  cannot  listen  to  such  expressions  in  the  absence  of 
my  colleague.  It  is  with  deep  regret  that  I  miss  in 
you  the  candor  and  dispassionate  impartiality  which 
I  consider  to  be  unreservedly  demanded  in  judging  a 
fellow-professor." 

"  You  yourself  told  me,"  replied  Felix,  more  quietly, 
"  that  he  promised  silence  to  the  trader,  because  the  lat- 
ter had  held  out  the  prospect  of  obtaining  other  secret 
parchments.  How  can  you,  after  such  an  exhibition 
of  selfishness,  find  a  word  to  say  in  his  defense?" 

"It  is  true  he  did  so,"  replied  Raschke,  "and 
therein  was  his  weakness?" 

"  Therein  was  his  dishonesty,"  said  the  Professor, 
"  and  that  I  shall  never  condone.  Whoever  thinks 
otherwise,  may  shake  his  hand  in  approbation  of  his 
conduct." 

Raschke  rose.  "If  your  words  mean  that  he  who 
grasps  the  hand  of  Struvelius  in  pardon  for  what  he 
has  done,  has  lost  in  character  and  self-respect,  I  re- 
ply to  you  that  I  am  the  man,  and  that  this  act  of 
mine  has  never  lessened  my  sense  of  dignity  nor  hu- 
miliated me  in  my  own  eyes.  I  entertain  the  highest 
respect  for  your  pure  and  manly  feelings,  which  I 
have  ever  deemed  exemplary;  but  I  must  now  tell  you, 
that  I  am  not  satisfied  with  you.  If  this  obduracy  has 
come  upon  you  merely  because  Struvelius  has  per- 


358  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

sonally  offended  you,  you  are  violating  the  standard 
which  we  are  ever  in  duty  bound  to  observe  in  judging 
our  fellow  men." 

"  Let  it  not  be  observed  then!"  exclaimed  the  Pro- 
fessor. "  I  recognize  no  standard  of  leniency  when  I 
have  to  do  with  the  demands  which  I  make  upon  the 
sense  of  honor  and  propriety  in  my  personal  acquaint- 
ances. It  affects  me  deeply  that  you  are  opposed 
to  me  in  this  way  of  thinking;  but  such  as  I  am,  an 
erring  and  imperfect  mortal,  I  cannot  moderate  these 
claims  upon  those  about  me. 

"Let  me  hope  then,"  broke  in  Raschke,  "that  it 
will  never  be  your  misfortune  to  have  to  confess  to 
others  that  you  have  been  deceived  by  an  impostor  in 
the  very  matter  wherein  your  consciousness  of  self- 
reliance  has  been  so  strongly  aroused.  For  he  who 
judges  others  so  proudly,  would  suffer  no  small  afflic- 
tion in  the  confession  of  his  own  shortsightedness." 

"  Yes,  that  would  be  fearful  for  me,"  said  Felix, 
to  involve  others  in  error  and  falsehood  against  my 
will.  But  trust  me,  to  atone  for  such  a  wrong  I  would 
use  all  my  life  and  strength.  Meanwhile,  between 
that  man  and  me  the  gulf  will  remain  as  dark  as  ever." 

Raschke  shoved  back  his  chair.  "  I  must  go,  then> 
for  our  discussion  has  so  excited  me  that  I  should 
make  a  very  unentertaining  companion.  It  is  the  first 
time,  my  dear  lady,  that  I  have  ever  left  this  house 
with  any  feeling  of  unpleasantness;  and  it  is  not  my 
least  annoyance,  that  my  untimely  advocacy  of  the 
existence  of  souls  in  poultry  made  me  bristle  up  my 
crest  against  you  also." 

Use  regarded  the  excited  countenance  of  the 
worthy  man  with  pain,  and,  in  order  to  soothe  him 
and  restore  the  old  friendly  relations,  she  said  to  him, 


CLOUDLETS.  359 

coaxingly:  "  But  you  shall  not  escape  the  poor 
chicken,  you'll  have  to  eat  it,  and  I  shall  take  care 
that  your  wife  gives  it  to  you  to-morrow  morning  for 
breakfast." 

Raschke  pressed  her  hand,  and  rushed  out  through 
the  door.  The  Professor  walked  up  and  down  the 
room  in  agitation,  and  then  stopping  before  his  wife 
said,  abruptly,  "Was  I  in  the  wrong?" 

"I  don't  know,"  replied  Use,  hesitating;  "but 
when  our  friend  spoke  to  you,  all  my  feelings  went 
with  him,  and  I  felt  that  he  was  right." 

"You,  too!"  said  the  Professor,  moodily.  He 
turned  on  his  heel  and  went  into  his  study. 

Use  once  more  sat  alone  with  a  heavy  heart,  and 
she  murmered,  "In  many  things  he  looks  on  life  very 
differently  from  what  I  do.  Towards  animals  he  is 
kinder,  and  towards  men  sometimes  harsher  than  I 
am.  Strive  as  I  may,  I  shall  always  be  to  him  an 
awkward  country  lass.  He  was  kind  to  Madam 
Rollmaus,  and  will  be  so  towards  me;  but  he  will  ever 
have  to  make  allowances  for  me." 

She  sprung  from  her  chair  with  a  burning  face. 

In  the  meantime  Raschke  was  roving  about  in  the 
anteroom;  there  too  disorder  prevailed.  Gabriel  had 
not  returned  from  his  distant  errand,  and  the  cook  had 
put  all  the  dinner  things  upon  a  side-table  till  his  re- 
turn, and  Raschke  had  to  look  for  his  own  great-coat. 
He  groped  among  the  clothes  and  seized  a  coat  and 
a  hat.  As  to-day  he  was  not  as  absent-minded  as 
usual,  a  glance  at  the  rejected  meal  reminded  him  of 
the  fact  that  he  had  to  eat  a  chicken,  as  enjoined  by 
Use.  He,  therefore,  seized  a  newspaper  which  Ga- 
briel had  carefully  laid  out  for  his  master,  took  the 
chicken  from  the  dish,  wrapped  it  up  in  the  paper,  and 


360  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

deposited  it  in  his  pocket,  the  depth  and  capacity  of 
which  agreeably  surprised  him.  Rushing  past  the 
astonished  cdok  he  left  the  house.  On  opening  the 
front  door  he  stumbled  over  something  on  the  thresh- 
old, and  heard  a  fearful  growl  behind  him  as  he  hur- 
ried down  the  steps  into  the  open  air. 

The  words  of  the  friend  whose  house  he  had  just 
left,  still  rung  in  his  ear.  Werner's  whole  bearing  had 
been  very  characteristic,  and  his  nature  was  a  strong 
one.  Strange,  that  in  a  moment  of  anger  his  face  had 
suddenly  assumed  a  likeness  to  that  of  a  Danish  dog. 
Here  the  philosopher's  chain  of  ideas  was  broken  by 
the  sudden  recollection  of  the  talk  about  animal  souls. 

"It  is  indeed  to  be  deplored  that  it  is  still  so  dif- 
ficult to  determine  the  significance  of  expression  as 
revealing  the  animal  soul.  If  success  attended  our 
efforts  here,  science  too  would  gain  by  it.  If  the  ex- 
pressions and  gestures  exhibited  in  moments  of  pas- 
sion by  man  and  the  higher  animals  could  be  com- 
pared and  collated  in  every  detail,  important  and  in- 
teresting inferences  might  be  drawn,  both  from  that 
which  they  manifested  in  common  and  from  that 
wherein  they  differed.  For,  in  this  way,  the  true  na- 
ture and  purport  of  their  dramatic  actions,  and  prob- 
ably new  laws  governing  the  same,  might  be  ascer- 
tained." 

Whilst  the  philosopher  was  thus  meditating,  he 
felt  a  repeated  tugging  at  the  end  of  his  overcoat.  As 
his  wife  was  accustomed,  when  he  was  wrapt  in 
thought,  to  nudge  him  gently  if  he  met  a  friend,  he 
paid  no  attention,  but  took  off  his  hat  politely  to  the 
post  on  the  bridge,  and  said,  "  Good  evening." 

"  The  common  character  and  origin  of  mimical  ex- 
pression in  man  and  the  higher  animals  might,  per- 


CLOUDLETS.  361 

haps,  if  fully  known,  give  us  glimpses  into  the  great 
secret  of  life."  Again  something  pulled  him.  Raschke 
mechanically  lifted  his  hat.  Another  tug.  "No  more, 
dear  Aurelia,  I  have  taken  my  hat  off."  It  then  oc- 
curred to  him  that  it  could  not  be  his  wife  who  was 
pulling  so  low  down  at  his  coat.  It  must  be  his  little 
daughter  Bertha,  who  occasionally  walked  with  him, 
and,  just  like  her  mother,  would  also  nudge  him 
gently  when  he  had  to  bow  to  any  one.  "  Very  well, 
dear  child,"  said  he,  as  Bertha  kept  continually  pull- 
ing at  his  hind  coat  pocket,  and  he  put  his  hand  be- 
hind him  to  catch  the  little  teazer.  He  caught  hold 
of  something  round  and  shaggy,  and  at  once  felt  the 
sharp  edges  of  teeth  in  his  fingers,  which  made  him 
turn  round  with  a  start.  He  then  saw,  by  the  lamp- 
light, a  red,  brindled  monster,  with  a  great  head  and 
bristly  hair,  and  a  tuft  instead  of  a  tail.  It  was  an 
awful  transformation  of  wife  and  daughter,  and  he 
stared  with  amazement  at  this  mysterious  being,  that 
stood  opposite  to  him,  likewise  regarding  him  in  si- 
lence. 

"A  remarkable  meeting,"  cried  Raschke.  "What 
art  thou,  unknown  beast — presumably  a  dog?  "  Get 
away  with  thee!  "  The  animal  slunk  back  a  few  paces, 
and  Raschke  pursued  his  inquiry  further.  "If  the 
facial  expression  and  the  gesticulation  attendant  upon 
emotion  could  be  thus  referred  and  traced  back  to 
original  and  common  forms,  the  instinctive  tendency 
to  appropriate  and  to  adapt  what  is  foreign  would  un 
doubtedly  result  as  one  of  the  most  universal  and  ef- 
fective of  laws.  It  would  be  instructive  from  the  in- 
voluntary actions  of  men  and  animals  to  ascertain  that 
which  naturally  belonged  to  each  species  and  that 
which  each  had  acquired.  Get  away,  dog; — home 


362  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

with  you,  I  say!  What  Is  he  after,  anyway?  He  is 
apparently  one  of  Werner's  people.  The  poor  brute  is 
possessed  of  some  overpowering  idea  and  will  lose  his 
way  running  about  the  city!  " 

In  the  meantime,  Spitehahn's  attacks  had  become, 
more  violent,  and  he  at  last  dropped  into  a  ludicrous 
march  upon  his  hind  legs,  while,  placing  his  forefeet 
on  the  Professor's  back,  he  buried  his  nose  in  the 
latter's  coat-pocket. 

Raschke's  interest  in  the  thoughts  of  the  dog  in- 
creased. He  stopped  by  a  lamp-post  and  carefully  ex- 
amined his  overcoat.  He  found  that  it  possessed  a  cape 
and  long  sleeves,  which  the  philosopher  had  never  ob- 
served before  on  his  own  coat.  The  matter  was  now 
clear:  he  had  thoughtlessly  taken  the  wrong  coat,  and 
the  honest  dog  meant  to  preserve  his  master's  ward- 
robe, and  to  make  the  thief  restore  it.  Raschke  was 
so  pleased  with  the  dog's  cleverness,  that  he  turned 
round  and  spoke  coaxingly  to  Spitehahn,  trying  to 
stroke  his  bristly  coat.  The  dog  snapped  at  his  hand. 
"You  are  quite  right,"  said  Raschke,  "  in  being  angry 
with  me.  I  will  show  you  that  I  confess  I  am  in  the 
wrong."  So  he  took  the  coat  off,  and  hung  it  over 
his  arm.  "  It  is,  indeed,  much  heavier  than  my  own." 
He  marched  briskly  on  in  his  light  coat,  and  saw  with 
satisfaction  that  the  dog  made  no  more  attacks  on  his 
skirts.  On  the  other  hand,  Spitehahn  seized  the  great- 
coat, and  began  biting  at  it,  snapping  at  the  Pro- 
fessor's hand  and  growling  furiously. 

The  Professor  got  angry  with  the  dog,  and  as  he 
came  to  a  bench  in  the  Promenade,  he  laid  the  coat 
down  on  it,  in  order  to  deal  with  the  animal  in  earnest, 
and  drive  him  home.  By  this  means  he  got  rid  of 
the  dog  and,  what  was  more,  of  the  coat  too;  for 


CLOUDLETS.  363 

Spitehahn,  jumping  up  eagerly  on  the  bench  with 
a  mighty  leap,  seized  the  coat,  and  kept  the  Professor 
at  bay.  "It  is  Werner's  coat,"  said  the  Professor, 
"and  it  is  Werner's  dog,  and  it  would  be  un- 
justifiable to  beat  the  poor  animal  because  in  his 
fidelity  he  has  become  excited,  and  it  would  be  also 
wrong  to  leave  both  dog  and  coat."  So  he  remained 
with  the  dog,  trying  to  coax  him;  the  animal,  how- 
ever, took  no  further  notice  of  the  Professor;  on  the 
contrary,  he  devoted  himself  to  the  coat,  which  he 
turned  over  and  over  again,  scraping  and  gnawing  at 
it.  Raschke  perceived  that  the  coat  would  not  long 
stand  such  treatment.  "The  dog  must  be  mad,"  he 
said  to  himself,  suspiciously,  "  and  I  shall  have  to  re- 
sort to  violence  after  all  towards  the  poor  creature;"  and 
he  considered  whether  it  were  better  to  jump  up  on 
the  bench  and  drive  the  mad  dog  off  with  a  good  kick, 
or  to  make  the  unavoidable  attack  from  below.  He 
decided  on  the  latter,  and  searched  about  for  a  stone 
or  stick  to  arm  himself  for  the  encounter.  He  then 
looked  up  at  the  trees  and  the  dark  sky,  and  could  not 
in  the  least  tell  where  he  was.  "  Is  this  witchcraft?" 
he  said  to  himself,  amused.  "  Pray  tell  me,"  address- 
ing a  solitary  passer-by,  "  in  what  part  of  the  town  we 
are;  and  will  you  have  the  goodness  to  lend  me  your 
stick  for  a  moment?" 

"These  are  strange  questions,"  replied  the  stran- 
ger, in  a  surly  tone.  "  I  want  my  stick  myself  at  this 
time  of  night.  And  who  are  you,  sir,  I  should  like  to 
know?"  And  he  approached  the  Professor  mena- 
cingly. 

"I  am  a  peaceable  man,"  replied  the  Professor,  "and 
little  inclined  to  violent  courses.  But  a  struggle  has 
commenced  between  that  dog  on  the  bench  and  me 


364  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

about  an  overcoat,  and  I  should  be  extremely  obliged 
to  you  if  you  would  rescue  the  coat  from  the  dog. 
But  pray  do  no  more  harm  to  him  than  is  absolutely 
necessary." 

"  Is  it  your  coat?"  asked  the  man. 

"Unfortunately,!  cannot  say  it  is, "replied  Raschke, 
conscientiously. 

"  There  is  something  wrong  here,"  cried  the 
stranger,  again  looking  with  suspicion  at  the  Professor. 

"Something,  indeed,"  replied  Raschke;  "the  dog 
is  mad,  the  coat  has  been  changed,  and  I  don't  know 
where  we  are." 

"Close  to  the  Valley  Gate,  Professor  Raschke," 
answered  the  voice  of  Gabriel,  who  rapidly  joined  the 
group.  "But,  pardon  me,  how  came  you  here?" 

"How  opportune,"  cried  Raschke,  delighted;  "just 
take  charge  of  the  coat  and  the  dog." 

With  astonishment  Gabriel  saw  his  friend  Spite- 
hahn,  who  was  now  sitting  on  the  coat,  quite  abashed 
and  chapfallen  at  the  sight  of  his  master.  Gabriel 
drove  the  dog  off,  and  seized  the  coat.  "It  is  my  own 
overcoat!"  he  said. 

"Yes,  Gabriel,"  rejoined  the  Professor,  "that  was 
my  mistake,  and  the  dog  has  displayed  a  wonderfu] 
fidelity  in  guarding  it." 

"Fidelity!"  said  Gabriel,  indignantly,  as  he  pulled 
a  parcel  out  of  the  pocket;  "it  was  greedy  self- 
ishness. There  must  be  something  to  eat  in  here." 

"Ah!  I  recollect  now,"  cried  Raschke;  "  it  is  the 
fowl  that's  to  blame.  Give  me  the  parcel,  Gabriel; 
I  must  eat  it  myself.  And  we  may  now  wish  one 
another  good-night  in  peace,  unless  you  will  go  with 
me  a  little  way  to  show  me  the  road  amongst  these 
trees." 


CLOUDLETS.  365 

"But  you  can't  go  in  this  night  air  without  an  over- 
coat," said  the  tender-hearted  Gabriel.  "We  are  not 
far  from  our  house,  and  it  would  be  better  for  you  to 
return  with  me  to  the  Professor's." 

Raschke  paused  a  while,  and  laughed.  "  You  are 
quite  right,  my  good  Gabriel:  my  sudden  departure 
was  all  wrong,  and  the  soul  of  an  animal  has  this  day 
given  a  lesson  to  a  human  soul." 

"  If  you  mean  this  dog,  replied  Gabriel,  "  it  is  the 
first  time  in  his  life  he  has  given  anybody  a  lesson.  I 
suppose  that  he  followed  you  from  our  door,  for  I  put 
bones  there  for  him  every  evening." 

"  At  one  time  I  thought  he  was  quite  mad,"  said 
the  Professor. 

"He  is  a  sly  one  when  he  chooses,"  replied  Ga- 
briel, with  an  air  of  mystery;  "  but  if  I  were  to  tell  all 
my  experiences  with  him  to  this  day — 

"  Do  tell  me,  Gabriel,"  cried  the  Professor,  quite  ex- 
cited. "  Nothing  is  so  valuable  with  respect  to  ani- 
mals as  authentic  anecdotes,  collected  by  those  who 
have  observed  them  closely." 

"  I  can  vouch  for  my  experience,"  said  Gabriel, 
with  an  air  of  confidence;  "  and  if  you  really  wish  to 
know  what  he  is,  I  can  tell  you  he  is  possessed — he  is 
a  devil — he's  a  depraved  brute — and  bears  a  grudge 
against  the  whole  human  race!  " 

"Hum! — is  that  so?"  murmured  the  philosopher. 
"  I  believe  it  is  much  easier  to  look  into  the  heart  of  a 
Professor  than  that  of  a  dog." 

Spitehahn  crept  along  quietly  but  depressed,  with 
his  tail  between  his  legs,  listening  to  the  praise  be- 
stowed on  him,  whilst  Raschke,  accompanied  by  Ga- 
l.riel,  returned  through  the  park  to  the  house.  Gabriel 


366  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

flung  open  the  parlor  door,  and  announced  "  Profes- 
sor Raschke." 

Use  stretched  out  both  hands,  "Welcome — wel- 
come, dear  Professor!"  and  led  him  in  to  hsr  hus- 
band's study. 

"  Here  I  am  again,"  said  Raschke,  in  a  cheerful 
tone,  "  after  an  adventure  like  a  fairy  tale.  I  have 
been  brought  back  by  two  animals  who  have  shown 
me  the  right  path — a  roast  fowl  and  a  perverted  dog." 

Felix  sprang  to  his  feet,  the  two  friends  shook 
hands  cordially,  and,  after  all  misunderstanding,  the 
evening  passed  off  most  pleasantly. 

When  Raschke  at  length  withdrew,  Gabriel  said 
sorrowfully  to  his  mistress:  "  It  was  the  new  coat; 
the  chicken  and  the  dog  have  ruined  it  beyond  all 
recognition." 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

THE  ILLNESS. 

IT  was  the  first  burst  of  spring  in  the  wood  and 
gardens  adjoining  the  city.  The  buds  and  the  cater- 
pillars had  slumbered  together  fa  quiet  winter  dreams; 
now  the  leaves  expanded,  and  the  grubs  crawled  over 
the  young  green  shoots.  Under  the  bright  rays  of  the 
sun  in  its  higher  course,  the  struggle  of  life  began, — 
the  blooming  and  withering,  the  rich  colors,  and  the 
frost  under  which  they  were  to  fade,  the  bright  green 
leaves  and  the  caterpillars  that  gnawed  them;  the 
eternal  strife  began  anew  in  buds  and  blossoms  just 
as  in  the  heart  of  man. 

Use,  in  her  hours  of  instruction,  was  now  reading 
Herodotus;  he,  too,  was  a  harbinger  of  spring  for  the 
human  race;  hovering  above  the  borderland  between 
dreamy  poetry  and  unclouded  reality,  the  glad  pro- 
claimer  of  a  time  in  which  the  people  of  the  earth  re- 
joiced in  their  own  beauty  and  perfection,  and  first 
began  to  seek  seriously  truth  and  knowledge.  Again 
Use  read  with  passionate  excitement  the  pages  which 
brought  a  shattered  world  before  her  eyes  with  such 
vivid  reality.  But  there  was  not  the  same  serene  and 
exalted  pleasure  in  the  narrative  as  in  the  works  of 
the  great  poet  who  so  directed  the  fate  and  deeds  of 
his  heroes  as  to  produce  a  pleasing  impression  upon 
the  mind,  even  when  they  excited  sorrow  and  fear. 
For  it  is  the  privilege  of  human  invention  to  form  the 
world  as  the  tender  heart  of  man  desires  it;  with  al- 
ternations and  fitting  proportions  of  happiness  and 


368  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

sorrow,  the  recognition  of  each  individual  according 
to  his  powers  and  actions,  and  due  compensation. 
But  the  mind  which  here  delineated  the  life  of  the 
past,  did  so  in  a  superhuman  manner,  life  crowded 
life,  so  that  one  devastated  the  other,  destruction 
mercilessly  overtook  them,  good  and  bad  alike  ;  here 
too,  there  was  retribution;  here,  too,  there  was  a 
curse,  but  their  effect  was  incomprehensible  and  cruel. 
What  was  good  ceased  to  be  good,  and  evil  gained 
the  victory.  What  was  first  a  blessing  afterwards  be- 
came ruin;  what  was  now  beneficent  greatness  and 
dominion,  afterwards  became  a  disease,  which  des- 
troyed the  state.  The  individual  heroes  were  of  little 
importance;  if  a  great  human  power  rose  and  domina- 
ted for  a  moment,  Use  soon  saw  it  disappear  in  the 
whirling  stream  of  events.  Croesus,  the  over-confi- 
dent, good-hearted  king,  fell;  the  powerful  Cyrus 
passed  away,  and  Xerxes  was  beaten.  But  nations 
also  sank,  the  blooming  flower  of  Egypt  withered,  the 
golden  realm  of  Lydia  was  shattered,  and  mighty 
Persia  first  corrupted  others  and  then  itself.  In  the 
young  Hellenic  people,  that  rose  with  such  heroic 
strength,  she  already  saw  busily  at  work  violence,  evil 
deeds,  and  enmities,  through  which  the  most  beauti- 
ful picture  of  antiquity,  after  short  prosperity,  was  to 
pass  away. 

Use  and  Laura  were  sitting  opposite  each  other, 
with  an  open  book  lying  between  them.  Laura,  in- 
deed, was  not  admitted  to  the  private  lessons  of  the 
Professor,  but  her  soul  faithfully  accompanied  Use  on 
the  path  of  learning.  Use  imparted  the  acquisitions 
of  her  hours  of  instructions  to  her,  and  enjoyed  the 
sweet  pleasure  of  infusing  new  ideas  into  the  mind  of 
her  friend. 


THE    ILLNESS.  369 

"  1  felt  great  indignation  at  this  Xerxes,"  cried 
Laura,  "even  from  what  I  read  in  the  primer: 

"Xantippe  was  a  cross,  mean  thing 
No  peace  her  husband  had. 
But  Xerxes  was  a  Persian  King 
And  he  was  just  as  bad." 

I  long  thought  that  Xantippe  was  his  wife,  and  I  wish 
he  had  had  her.  On  the  other  hand,  look  at  the  three 
hundred  Spartans  who  sent  the  others  home  and  encir- 
cled themselves  with  wreaths,  anointed  themselves,  and 
put  on  the  festive  garb  to  march  to  death.  That  ele- 
vates the  heart;  they  were  men.  If  I  could  show  my 
veneration  for  their  memory  by  means  of  my  stupid 
head  and  weak  hands,  I  would  work  for  it  till  my  fin- 
gers ached.  But  what  can  a  poor  creature  like  me  do? 
At  the  utmost,  embroider  traveling-bags  for  their 
journey  to  the  lower  world,  and  these  would  come  two 
thousand  years  too  late.  We  women  are  pitiable 
creatures,"  she  exclaimed,  with  vexation. 

"There  were  others  in  the  battle,"  said  Use,  "who 
affected  me  more  than  the  three  hundred  Spartans. 
These  were  the  Thespians,  who  fought  and  died  with 
them.  The  Spartans  were  impelled  by  their  proud 
hearts  and  the  strict  discipline  and  commands  of  their 
rulers.  But  the  Thespians  died  willingly.  They 
were  a  small  people,  and  they  well  knew  that  the 
greatest  honor  would  attach  to  their  distinguished 
neighbors.  But  they  were  faithful  in  their  humble 
position,  and  that  was  far  more  self-sacrificing  and 
noble.  Ah!  it  was  easy  for  all  of  them,"  she  con- 
tinued, sorrowfully;  "  but  for  those  who  remained  be- 
hind, their  poor  parents,  wives  and  children  at  home, 
what  destruction  of  happiness  and  unspeakable  mis- 
ery! " 


370  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

"Misery!"  cried  Laura;  "if  they  thought  as  I  do, 
they  were  proud  of  the  death  of  their  loved  ones,  and 
like  them  wore  garlands  in  their  sorrow.  What  is  the 
purpose  of  our  life  if  we  cannot  rejoice  in  giving  our- 
selves up  for  higher  things?" 

"  For  higher  things?  "  asked  Use.  "  What  men 
value  higher  than  wife  and  child,  is  that  higher  for  us 
also?  Our  duty  is  to  devote  our  whole  hearts  to 
them,  our  children,  and  our  home.  WThen,  therefore, 
they  are  taken  from  us,  our  whole  lives  are  desolated 
and  nothing  remains  but  endless  sorrow.  It  is  natural 
for  us  to  view  their  vocation  differently  than  they  do 
themselves." 

"I  would  like  to  be  a  man,"  cried  Laura.  "Are 
we  then  so  weak  in  mind  and  spirit,  that  we  must  have 
less  enthusiasm,  less  feeling  of  honor,  and  less  love 
for  our  Fatherland  than  they?  It  is  a  fearful  thought 
to  be  one's  whole  life  long  only  the  waiting-maid  of  a 
master  who  is  no  stronger  or  better  than  oneself,  and 
who  wears  overshoes,  that  his  feet  may  not  get  wet, 
and  a  woollen  muffler  the  moment  a  breath  of  cold  air 
blows." 

"  They  do  wear  these  things  here  in  the  town,"  re- 
plied Use,  laughing. 

"  Yes,  nearly  all  of  them  do,"  said  Laura,  evasively; 
"  but  believe  me,  Frau  Use,  these  men  have  no  right 
to  expect  us  to  devote  our  whole  heart  and  lives  to 
them.  It  is  just  the  most  thorough  of  them  that  do 
not  give  us  their  full  heart.  And  how  should  they? 
We  are  good  enough  to  entertain  them,  and  darn 
their  stockings,  and  perhaps  become  their  confidants, 
if  they  should  accidentally  be  at  a  loss  what  to  do; 
but  the  best  of  them  look  beyond  us  to  the  great  All, 


THE    ILLNESS.  371 

and   in   that  is   their   special   life.     What  is  right  for 
them  should  also  be  fitting  for  us." 

"  And  have  we  not  enough  in  what  they  give  us  of 
their  life?"  asked  Use.  "If  it  is  only  a  portion  it 
makes  us  happy." 

"  Is  it  happiness  never  to  experience  the  highest 
of  emotions?"  exclaimed  Laura.  "  Can  we  die  like 
Leonidas?" 

Use  pointed  to  the  door  of  her  husband's  room. 
"  My  Hellas  sits  there  within  and  works,  and  my  heart 
beats  when  I  hear  his  step,  or  only  the  scratching  of 
his  pen.  To  live  or  die  for  the  man  one  loves  is  also 
an  elevating  idea,  and  makes  one  happy.  Ah,  happy 
only  if  one  knows  that  one  is  a  source  of  happiness  to 
him  also!" 

Laura  threw  herself  at  the  feet  of  her  friend,  and 
looked  entreatingly  into  her  anxious  face.  "  I  have  made 
you  serious  with  my  prattling,  and  that  was  wrong  of 
me;  for  I  would  gladly  conjure  a  smile  to  your  lips 
every  hour,  and  always  see  a  friendly  light  in  those 
soft  eyes.  But  do  bear  with  me;  I  am  a  strange,  un- 
accountable girl,  and  often  discontented  with  myself 
and  others,  and  frequently  without  knowing  why. 
But  Xerxes  was  a  good  for  nothing  fellow,  to  that  I 
stick;  and  if  I  had  him  here  I  could  box  his  ears  every 
day." 

"At  all   events  he  received  his  due,"  replied  Use. 

Laura  started  suddenly.  "Was  that  a  proper  retri- 
bution for  the  wretch  who  had  destroyed  or  made 
miserable  hundreds  of  thousands,  to  return  home  with- 
out a  scratch?  No  punishment  would  be  severe 
enough  for  such  a  wicked  king.  But  I  know  right 
well  how  he  became  so;  his  mother  and  father  spoiled 
him;  he  had  always  lived  at  home,  had  grown  up  in 


372  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

luxury  and  all  men  were  subject  to  him.  And  so  he 
treated  all  with  contempt.  It  would  be  the  same  with 
others  if  they  were  in  the  same  position.  I  can  well 
imagine  myself  such  a  monster,  and  many  of  my  ac- 
quaintances too." 

"My  husband?"  asked  Use. 

"  No,  he  is  more  like  Cyrus  or  Cambyses,"  replied 
Laura. 

Use  laughed.  "That  is  not  true.  But  how  would 
it  be  with  the  Doctor  over  there?" 

Laura  raised  her  hand  threateningly  towards  the 
neighboring  house.  "  He  would  be  Xerxes,  just  as  he 
is  in  the  book,  if  one  could  think  of  him  without  spec- 
tacles, in  a  golden  dressing-gown,  with  a  sceptre  in 
his  hand,  without  his  good  heart  (for  Fritz  Hahn  un- 
doubtedly has  that);  somewhat  less  clever  than  he  is, 
and  still  more  spoilt,  as  a  man  also  who  has  written  no 
book,  and  learnt  nothing  but  to  treat  others  badly;  he 
would  then  be  Xerxes  out  and  out.  I  see  him  sitting 
before  me  on  a  throne,  by  a  brook,  striking  the  water 
with  a  whip  because  it  made  his  boots  wet.  He 
might  have  become  a  very  dangerous  fellow  if  he  had 
not  been  born  here  close  to  the  city  park." 

"I  think  so  too,"  replied  Use.  In  the  evening,  in 
the  course  of  her  hour  of  study,  Use  said  to  her  hus- 
band: "When  Leonidas  died  with  his  heroes,  he 
saved  his  countrymen  from  the  rule  of  foreign  barbar- 
ians; but  after  him  many  thousands  of  these  glorious 
men  fell  in  the  civil  wars  of  the  cities.  In  these  quar- 
rels the  people  became  deteriorated,  and  before  long 
other  strangers  came  and  deprived  their  descendants 
of  their  freedom.  For  what  end  did  these  many 
thousands  die? — of  what  use  was  all  the  hatred,  and 
enthusiasm,  and  party  zeal? — it  was  all  in  vain,  it  was 


THE    ILLNESS.  373 

all  a  token  of  decay.  Man  is  here  like  a  grain  of  sand 
that  is  trodden  down  into  the  earth.  I  find  myself 
facing  a  terrible  mystery  and  I  am  afraid  of  life." 

"I  will  endeavour  to  give  you  a  solution,"  replied 
her  husband,  seriously;  "  but  the  words  which  I  am 
now  about  to  speak  to  you  are  like  the  key  to  the 
chambers  of  the  wicked  Bluebeard:  do  not  open 
every  room  too  hastily,  for  in  some  of  them  you  will 
discover  what,  in  your  present  frame  of  mind,  may 
raise  anew  your  fears." 

"  I  am  your  wife,"  cried  Use,  "  and  if  you  have  any 
answer  for  the  questions  which  torment  me  I  demand 
it  of  you." 

"My  answer  is  no  secret  to  you,"  said  the  Profes- 
sor. "You  are  not  only  what  you  consider  yourself — 
a  human  being  born  to  joy  and  sorrow,  united  to  indi- 
viduals by  nature,  love,  and  faith — but  you  are  bound 
body  and  soul  to  an  earthly  power,  of  which  you  think 
but  little,  but  which,  nevertheless,  guides  you  from  the 
first  breath  you  drew  to  the  last  gasp  of  life.  When  I 
tell  you  that  you  are  a  child  of  your  people,  and  a  child 
of  the  human  race,  the  expression  will  come  so  natu- 
rally to  you  that  you  will  not  assign  any  deep  meaning 
to  it.  Yet  this  is  your  highest  earthly  relation.  We 
are  too  much  accustomed  from  childhood  on  to  cherish 
in  our  hearts  only  the  individuals  to  whom  we  are 
bound  by  nature  or  choice,  and  we  seldom  stop  to 
think  that  our  nation  is  the  ancestor  from  whom  our 
parents  are  descended,  that  has  produced  our  language, 
laws,  manners,  that  has  given  us  all  we  possess,  given 
us  everything  that  constitutes  our  life,  and  almost  all 
that  determines  our  fortunes,  and  elevates  our  hearts. 
Yet  not  our  nation  alone  has  accomplished  this;  the 
peoples  of  the  earth  stand  to  one  another  as  brothers 


374  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

and  sisters,  and  one  nation  helps  to  decide  the  life  and 
fate  of  others.  All  have  lived,  suffered,  and  worked 
together,  in  order  that  you  may  live,  enjoy,  and  do 
your  part  in  life." 

Use  smiled.  "  The  bad  king  Cambyses,  and  his 
Persian  also?" 

"They  also,"  replied  the  Professor;  "for  the  great 
net  of  which  your  life  is  one  of  the  meshes,  is  woven 
from  an  infinite  number  of  threads,  and  if  one  had 
been  lost  the  web  would  be  imperfect.  Take  first  a 
simple  illustration.  You  are  indebted  to  the  people  of  a 
period,  of  which  every  record  is  now  wanting,  for  the 
table  by  which  you  sit,  the  needle  which  you  hold  in 
your  hand,  and  the  rings  on  your  fingers  and  in  your 
ears;  the  shuttle  was  invented  by  an  unknown  people 
in  order  that  your  dress  might  be  woven,  and  a  similar 
palm-leaf  pattern  to  that  which  you  wear,  was  devised 
in  the  manufactory  of  a  Phoenician." 

"  Good,"  said  Use;  "  that  pleases  me;  it  is  a  charm- 
ing thought  that  antiquity  has  provided  so  consider- 
ately for  my  comfort." 

"  Not  that  alone,"  continued  the  scholar.  "What 
you  know,  and  believe  also,  and  much  that  occupies 
your  heart,  has  been  delivered  to  you  through  your 
nation  from  its  own  and  foreign  sources.  Every  word 
that  you  speak  has  been  transmitted  and  remodelled 
through  hundreds  of  generations,  to  receive  thereby 
that  sound  and  significance  which  you  now  so  easily 
command.  It  was  for  this  object  that  our  ancestors  came 
into  the  country  from  Asia,  and  that  Arminius  strug- 
gled with  the  Romans  for  the  preservation  of  our 
language,  that  you  might  be  able  to  give  Gabriel  an 
order  which  both  could  understand.  It  was  for  you 
the  poets  lived,  who,  in  the  youth  of  the  Hellenic  peo- 


THE    ILLNESS.  375 

pie,  invented  the  powerful  rhythm  of  the  epic  verse, 
which  it  gives  me  such  pleasure  to  hear  from  your  lips. 
Furthermore,  that  you  may  believe,  as  you  do,  it  was 
necessary  that  three  hundred  years  ago  there  should 
take  place  in  your  Fatherland  a  great  and  mighty  strug- 
gle of  opinion;  and  again,  more  than  a  thousand  years 
earlier,  a  mighty  conflict  of  the  soul  in  a  small  people 
of  Asia;  and  again,  fifty  generations  earlier  still,  ven- 
erated commandments  given  under  the  tents  of  a 
wandering  people.  You  have  to  thank  a  past  which 
begins  with  the  first  life  of  man  on  earth  for  most  that 
you  have  and  are,  and  in  this  sense  the  whole  human 
race  has  lived  in  order  that  you  might  be  able  to 
live." 

Use  looked  excitedly  at  her  husband.  "The 
thought  is  elevating,"  she  exclaimed,  "and  is  calcu- 
lated to  make  man  proud.  But  how  does  that  agree 
with  this  same  man  being  a  nonentity,  and  crushed 
like  a  worm  in  the  great  events  of  history?" 

"As  you  are  the  child  of  your  nation,  and  of  the 
human  race,  so  has  every  individual  been  in  every 
age;  and  as  he  has  to  thank  that  greater  human  fab- 
ric, of  which  he  is  a  portion,  for  his  life  and  nearly 
all  its  content,  so  is  his  fortune  linked  to  the  greater 
fortune  of  his  nation  and  to  the  destiny  of  mankind. 
Your  people  and  your  race  have  given  you  much,  and 
they  require  as  much  from  you.  They  have  preserved 
your  body  and  formed  your  mind,  and  they  demand 
in  return  your  body  and  mind.  However  lightly  and 
freely  you  move  about  as  an  individual,  you  are  an- 
swerable to  these  creditors  for  the  use  of  your  free- 
dom. Whether,  as  mild  masters,  they  allow  you  to 
pass  your  life  in  peace,  or  at  some  period  demand  it  of 
you,  your  duty  is  the  same;  whilst  you  think  that  you 


376  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

live   and   die   for  yourself,  you  live  and  die  for  them. 
Contemplated   in   this  way,  the  individual  life  is  im- 
measurably small  compared  with    the    great   whole. 
To  us,  the   individual  man  who  has  passed  away  can 
only  be  discerned  in  so  far  as  he  has  influenced  others; 
it  is  only  in  connection  with  those  who  preceded  him, 
and   those  who  come  after  him,  that  he  is  of  impor- 
tance.    But  in  this  sense  great  and  little  are  both  of 
value.     For  every  one  of  us  who  brings  up  his  chil- 
dren, or  governs  the  State,  or  in  any  way  increases  the 
welfare,  comfort,  and  culture  of  his  race,  performs  a 
duty  towards  his  people.     Countless  numbers  do  this 
without  any  personal  record  of  them  remaining;  they 
are  like  drops  of   water,   which,  closely   united   with 
others,  run  on  as  one  great  stream,  not  distinguishable 
by  later  eyes.     But  they  have  not  on  that  account 
lived  in  vain;  and,  as  countless  insignificant  individu- 
als are  preservers  of  culture,  and  workers  for  the  du- 
ration of  national  strength,  so  the  highest  of  powersin 
individuals — the  greatest   heroes  and  the  noblest  re- 
formers— only  represent  in  their  lives  a  small  portion 
of  that   national   strength.     Whilst  man  struggles  for 
himself  and  his  own  ends,  he  unconsciously  influences 
his  own  time,  and  his  own  people  for  all  futurity.     By 
ennobling  the  ideals  and  duties  of  future  generations, 
he  pays   his  own   debt  to  life.     You  see,  my  beloved, 
how  death  vanishes  from  history  in  such  a  conception. 
The  result  of  life  becomes  more  important  than  life 
itself;  beyond  the  man  is   the  nation — beyond  the  na- 
tion is  mankind;  every  human   being   that   has  moved 
upon  earth  has  lived,  not  only  for  himself,  but  for  all 
others,  and  for  us  also;  thus  our  life  has  been  bene- 
fited by  him.    As  the  Greeks  grew  up  in  noble  freedom 
and  passed   away,  and  as  their  thoughts  and  labors 


THE    ILLNESS.  377 

have  benefited  later  generations  of  men,  so  our  life, 
though  it  moves  in  a  small  circle,  will  not  be  useless  to 
future  generations." 

"Ah!"  cried  Use,  "that  is  a  view  of  earthly  life 
which  is  only  possible  to  those  who  do  great  things, 
and  in  whom  later  times  will  take  an  interest;  my 
blood  runs  cold  at  the  thought.  Are  men,  then,  only  like 
flowers  and  weeds,  and  a  nation  like  a  great  meadow, 
and  what  remains,  when  they  are  mowed  down  by 
time,  only  useful  hay,  for  later  generations?  Surely 
all  that  once  existed  and  all  existing  at  present  have 
lived  also  for  themselves,  and  for  those  whom  they 
have  loved,  for  wife  and  children  and  friends,  and  they 
were  something  more  than  ciphers  among  millions; 
something  more  than  leaves  on  an  enormous  tree. 
Though  their  existence  is  so  insignificant  and  useless 
that  you  can  perceive  no  trace  of  their  work,  yet  the 
life  and  the  soul  of  the  beggar  and  the  life  and  the 
soul  of  my  poor  invalid  in  the  village  are  guarded  by 
a  power  which  is  greater  than  your  great  net  that  is 
woven  of  the  souls  of  men." 

She  arose  and  gazed  anxiously  into  her  husband's 
face.  "  Bow  your  human  pride  before  a  power  that 
you  do  not  understand." 

The  scholar  looked  at  his  wife  with  deep  solici- 
tude. "  I  do  bow  humbly  before  the  thought  that  the 
great  unity  of  human  beings  on  this  earth  is  not  the 
highest  power  of  life.  The  only  difference  between 
you  and  me  is,  that  my  mind  is  accustomed  to  hold 
intercourse  with  the  higher  powers  of  earth.  They 
are  to  me  revelations  so  holy  and  worthy  of  reverence, 
that  I  best  love  to  seek  the  Eternal  and  Incomprehen- 
sible by  this  path.  You  are  accustomed  to  find  the 
inscrutable  in  the  conceptions  which  have  been  im- 


378  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

pressed  on  your  mind  through  pious  traditions;  and  I 
again  repeat  what  I  before  said,  your  faith  and  yearn- 
ings arise  from  the  same  source  as  mine,  and  we  seek 
the  same  light,  though  in  different  ways.  What  the 
Gods,  and  also  the  Angels  and  Archangels  were  to  the 
faith  of  earlier  generations — higher  powers  which,  as 
messengers  of  the  Highest,  hovered  about  and  influ- 
enced the  lives  of  men — the  great  intellectual  unity  of 
nations  and  mankind  are  in  another  sense  to  us,  per- 
sonalities which  endure  and  yet  pass  away,  though  ac- 
cording to  different  laws  from  what  individual  men 
do.  My  endeavour  to  understand  these  laws  is  one 
form  of  my  piety.  You  yourself  will  gradually  learn 
to  appreciate  the  modest  and  elevating  concep- 
tions of  the  holy  sphere  in  which  I  live.  You  also 
will  gradually  discover  that  your  faith  and  mine  are 
about  the  same." 

"  No,"  cried  Use,  "  I  see  only  one  thing,  a  great 
gulf  which  divides  my  thoughts  from  yours.  Oh,  de- 
liver me  from  the  anguish  which  tortures  me  in  my 
concern  for  your  soul." 

"  I  cannot  do  it,  nor  can  it  be  done  in  a  day.  It 
can  only  be  done  by  our  own  lives,  by  thousands  of 
impressions  and  by  thousands  of  days,  in  which  you 
will  become  accustomed  to  look  upon  the  world  as  I 
do." 

He  drew  his  wife,  who  was  standing  as  if  transfixed, 
nearer  to  him.  "Think  of  the  text:  '  In  my  father's 
house  are  many  mansions.'  He  who  so  spoke  knew 
that  man  and  wife  are  one  through  the  strongest  of 
earthly  feelings,  which  bears  all  and  suffers  all." 

"  But  what  can  I  be  to  you  to  whom  the  individ- 
ual is  so  little?"  asked  Use,  faintly. 

"The    highest   and    dearest    being    on    earth,  the 


THE    ILLNESS.  379 

flower  of  my  nation,  a  child  of  my  race  in  whom  I 
love  and  honour  what  was  before  and  will  survive  us." 

Use  stood  alone  among  the  strange  books;  without, 
the  wind  howled  round  the  walls,  the  clouds  flitted 
across  the  face  of  the  moon;  soon  the  room  became 
dark,  and  then  was  lighted  up  by  a  pale  glimmer.  In 
the  flickering  light  the  walls  seemed  to  spread  and 
rise  to  an  immeasurable  height;  strange  figures  rose 
from  among  the  books,  they  glided  by  the  walls,  and 
were  suspended  from  the  ceiling,  an  army  of  grey 
shadows,  which  by  day  were  banished  to  the  book- 
shelves, now  came  trooping  towards  her,  and  the  dead 
who  continued  to  live  as  spirits  on  earth  stretched  out 
their  arms  to  her  and  demanded  her  soul  for  them- 
selves. 

Use,  with  head  erect,  raised  her  hands  on  high, 
and  called  to  her  aid  the  beautiful  images,  which  from 
her  childhood  had  surrounded  her  life  with  blessing, 
white  figures  with  shining  countenances.  She  bent 
her  head  and  prayed:  "O  guard  the  peace  of  my 
soul." 

When  Use  entered  her  room  she  found  a  letter 
from  her  father  on  her  table;  she  opened  it  hastily, 
and,  after  reading  the  first  lines,  sank  down  sobbing. 

Her  father  had  informed  her  of  the  death  of  an  old 
friend.  The  good  pastor  had  been  borne  away  from 
the  narrow  valley  to  the  place  of  rest,  which  he  had 
•chosen  in  the  churchyard,  near  his  wife.  He  had 
never  recovered  from  the  disquiet  which  the  departure 
of  Use  had  caused  him;  he  had  passed  the  winter  in 
lingering  illness,  and  one  warm  spring  evening  death 
came  upon  him  while  sitting  before  his  peach-tree  in 
the  garden.  There  the  faithful  servant  found  him,  and 
ran  with  the  terrible  news  to  the  manor.  A  few  hours 


380  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

before  he  had  requested  Clara  to  write  to  his  dear 
child  in  the  city,  that  all  was  well  with  him. 

Use  had  often  been  anxious  about  the  life  of  her 
friend  during  the  winter,  so  the  account  was  not  a  sur- 
prise to  her.  Yet  now  she  felt  his  loss  as  a  terrible 
misfortune;  it  was  a  life  which  had  been  firmly  and 
faithfully  devoted  to  her;  she  well  knew  that  in  later 
years  she  had  become  almost  exclusively  the  object 
of  his  thoughts  and  fond  affections.  She  had  aban- 
doned one  who  had  been  part  of  her  life,  im- 
pelled by  a  stronger  feeling,  and  it  now  appeared  as  if 
she  had  done  wrong  in  parting  from  him.  She  saw 
the  staff  broken  which  had  bound  her  firmly  to  the 
feelings  of  her  childhood.  It  seemed  as  if  the  ground 
tottered  beneath  her,  as  if  all  had  become  insecure,  the 
heart  of  her  husband,  and  her  own  future. 

The  Professor  found  her  dissolved  in  tears  and 
bending  over  the  letter;  her  grief  moved  him,  and  he 
anxiously  begged  her  to  think  of  herself.  He  spoke 
to  her  tenderly,  and  at  last  she  raised  her  eyes  to  him 
and  promised  to  be  composed. 

But  it  was  in  vain.  After  a  few  hours  he  was 
obliged  to  carry  her  to  bed. 

It  was  a  dangerous  illness.  There  were  days  in 
which  she  lay  unconscious  in  death-like  weakness. 
When,  at  times,  she  opened  her  weary  eyes,  she  looked 
into  the  careworn  countenance  of  her  husband,  and 
saw  Laura's  curly  head  tenderly  bending  over  her; 
then  all  would  vanish  again  in  vague  insensibility. 

It  was  a  long  struggle  between  life  and  death,  but 
life  was  victorious.  Her  first' impression,  when  she 
awoke  as  from  a  painless  slumber,  was  the  rustling  of 
a  black  dress,  and  the  large  curl  of  Mrs.  Struvelius, 
who  had  popped  her  head  through  the  closed  curtains, 


THE    ILLNESS.  381 

and  was  gazing  sorrowfully  on  her  with  her  great  grey 
eyes.  She  gently  called  her  husband  by  name,  and  the 
next  moment  he  was  kneeling  by  her  bed,  covering 
her  hand  with  kisses;  and  the  strong  man  had  so  com- 
pletely lost  all  self-control  that  he  wept  convulsively. 
She  laid  her  hand  on  his  head,  stroked  the  matted 
hair,  and  said  to  him,  gently:  "Felix,  my  love,  I  will 
live." 

There  followed  now  a  time  of  great  weakness  and 
slow  convalescence;  she  had  many  an  hour  of  helpless 
depression,  but  withal  a  faint  smile  would  play  at 
times  over  her  thin,  pale  lips. 

Spring  had  come.  The  buds  had  not  all  been  des- 
troyed by  the  frost  of  the  previous  night,  and  the 
birds  twittered  before  her  windows.  Use  was  deeply 
moved  to  see  what  a  good  nurse  her  husband  was, — 
how  adroitly  he  gave  her  medicine  and  food,  and 
would  scarcely  surfer  anyone  to  take  his  place  by  her 
bedside;  he  stubbornly  refused  to  take  a  few  hours' 
sleep  in  the  night,  till  she  herself  begged  him  to  do 
so,  and  then  he  could  not  resist.  She  learned  from  Laura 
that  he  had  been  in  great  distress  of  mind,  and  when 
she  was  at  the  worst  had  been  quite  distracted  and 
moody,  and  angry  with  every  one.  He  had  sat  day 
and  night  by  her  bedside,  so  that  it  was  wonderful 
how  he  had  been  able  to  endure  it.  "  The  phy- 
sician was  unable  to  manage  him,"  said  Laura;  "but  I 
found  the  right  way,  for  I  threatened  him  seriously 
that  I  would  complain  to  you  of  his  obstinacy.  Then 
he  consented  to  my  taking  his  place  for  a  few  hours, 
and  at  last  Mrs.  Struvelius  also,  but  unwillingly, 
because  he  maintained  that  her  dress  rustled  too  much. 

Laura  herself  showed  how  devoted  was  her  love; 
she  was  always  on  the  spot,hovering  noiselessly  about  the 


382  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

sick-bed  like  a  bird;  she  would  sit  motionless  for  hours, 
and  when  Use  opened  her  eyes,  and  her  strength  was 
a  little  restored,  she  had  always  something  pleasant  to 
tell  her.  She  informed  her  that  Mrs.  Struvelius 
had  come  on  the  second  day,  and,  after  making  a  little 
speech  to  the  Professor,  in  which  she  solemnly  claimed 
the  right  of  a  friend,  she  seated  herself  on  the  other 
side  of  the  bed.  He,  however,  had  not  listened  to 
what  she  said,  and  had  suddenly  started  and  asked 
who  she  was,  and  what  she  wanted  there.  She  had 
answered  him  quietly  that  she  was  Flaminia  Struve- 
lius, and  that  her  heart  gave  her  a  right  to  be  there; 
thereupon  she  repeated  her  argument,  and  at  last  he 
gave  in.  "Her  husband,  too,  has  been  here,"  added 
Laura,  cautiously.  "  Just  when  you  were  at  the  worst, 
he  rushed  up  to  your  husband,  who  shook  hands  with 
him,  but,  between  ourselves,  I  do  not  think  he  knew 
him.  Then,"  related  Laura,  "  that  absurd  fellow,  the 
Doctor,  came  the  very  first  evening,  with  a  blanket 
and  a  tin  coffee-machine,  and  declared  he  would  watch 
also.  As  he  could  not  be  allowed  in  the  sick-room, 
he  placed  himself  with  his  tin  apparatus  in  the  Pro- 
fessor's room;  the  Professor  took  care  of  you,  and  the 
Doctor  took  care  of  the  Professor."  Use  drew  Laura's 
head  down  to  her,  and  whispered  in  her  ear,  "and 
sister  Laura  took  care  of  the  Doctor."  Upon  this 
Laura  kissed  her,  but  shook  her  head  vehemently. 
"  He  was  not  troublesome,  at  any  rate,"  she  continued; 
"  he  kept  very  quiet,  and  he  was  useful  as  a  Cerberus 
to  keep  away  the  visitors  and  dismiss  the  many  in- 
quirers. This  he  did  faithfully.  If  it  were  possible 
for  you  to  see  him,  I  believe  it  would  give  him  great 
pleasure." 

Use  nodded.   "  Let  him   come  in."     The   Doctor 


THE    ILLNESS.  383 

came;  Use  stretched  out  her  hand  towards  him,  and 
felt  from  the  warm  pressure,  and  from  the  emo- 
tion on  his  countenance,  that  the  learned  confidant  of 
her  beloved  husband,  on  whose  approbation  she  had 
not  always  counted,  was  a  true  friend.  Use  found  also 
that  other  gentlemen  pressed  to  her  bedside. 

"  If  the  wife  of  my  colleague  will  give  me  audience, 
I  beg  to  apply  for  admittance,"  said  a  cheerful  voice, 
outside. 

"  Come  in,  Professor  Raschke,"  cried  Use,  from  her 
bed. 

"  There  she  is,"  exclaimed  he,  louder  than  is  usual 
in  a  sick-room,  "  returned  to  the  glad  light  after  a 
dangerous  crisis." 

"What  are  the  souls  of  animals  doing,  dear  Pro- 
fessor?" asked  Use. 

"  They  are  eating  the  leaves  in  the  adjacent  woods," 
answered  Raschke;  "there  have  been  numerous  lady- 
birds this  year;  see,  there  is  one  flying  about  the  med- 
icine bottle;  I  fear  it  has  used  me  as  a  stage-coach 
to  come  in  to  visit  you.  The  trees  stand  like  brooms, 
and  the  poultry  are  so  fat  that  all  prejudices  concern- 
ing the  enjoyment  of  these  fellow-creatures  are  quite 
set  aside.  I  count  the  days  until  the  happy  moment 
arrives  when  my  friend  will  follow  me  to  give  evidence 
of  my  improvement." 

It  was  a  slow  recovery,  but  accompanied  by  abund- 
ant feelings  of  comfort;  for  fate  grants  to  convales- 
cents, as  a  compensation  for  danger  and  suffering,  to 
see  all  around  them,  free  from  the  dust  of  the  work-a- 
iay  world,  in  pure  outlines  and  fresh  brilliancy.  Use 
now  felt  this  mild  poetry  of  the  sick-bed,  when  she 
held  out  her  hand  to  the  honest  Gabriel,  which  he 
kissed,  holding  his  handkerchief  to  his  eyes,  whilst  the 


384  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

Professor  extolled  his  devoted  service.  She  felt  this 
pleasure  also  when  going  down  into  the  garden,  sup- 
ported by  Laura's  arm.  Mr.  Hummel  advanced  to 
her  respectfully,  in  his  best  coat,  with  his  hair  brushed 
down  and  his  defiant  eyes  softened  almost  into  a  mild 
expression,  and  behind  him  followed  slowly  his  dog 
Spitehahn,  his  head  also  bent  in  unwilling  respect. 
When  Mr.  Hummel  had  offered  his  homage,  he  said, 
sympathisingly:  "  If  you  should  ever  wish  for  a  little 
quiet  exercise,  I  beg  of  you  to  make  use  of  my  boat  at 
your  pleasure."  This  was  the  greatest  favor  that 
Mr.  Hummel  could  show,  for  he  did  not  credit  the  in- 
habitants of  the  neighborhood  in  which  he  lived  with 
any  of  the  qualifications  which  are  necessary  to  make 
aquatic  excursions.  He  was  undoubtedly  right  when 
he  called  a  voyage  in  his  boat  a  quiet  amusement; 
for  this  season  the  boat  had  mostly  rested  upon  bottom 
on  account  of  the  shallowness  of  the  water  and  the 
greatest  amusement  that  it  could  offer  was  to  stretch 
out  the  hands  to  both  banks,  and  tear  up  a  tuft  of  grass 
with  each. 

When  Use  could  sit  in  her  room  again,  it  often 
happened  that  the  door  opened  gently,  her  husband 
entered,  kissed  her,  and  then  returned  with  a  light 
heart  to  his  books.  When  she  saw  his  tender  anxiety, 
and  his  happiness  in  her  recovery,  and  in  again  having 
her  near  him,  she  no  longer  doubted  his  love,  and  felt 
that  she  ought  no  longer  to  be  anxious  about  what  he 
thought  of  the  life  and  passing  away  of  individuals 
and  of  nations. 


CHAPTER  XX. 
A    COURT    MATTER. 

Among  the  inquiries  after  the  Professor's  wife 
during  her  illness,  there  was  one  made  by  a  stranger. 
Gabriel  excited  a  little  astonishment  in  the  household 
when  he  mentioned:  "Once,  as  I  was  running  to  the 
apothecary,  a  man  of  refined  appearance  was  standing 
in  the  street  talking  with  Dorchen.  Dorchen  called 
to  me,  and  the  man  made  inquiries  concerning  every- 
thing, and  your  illness  seemed  very  inopportune  to  him." 

"Did  you  ask  his  name?" 

"He  would  not  give  it.  He  was  from  your  part  of 
the  country,  and  had  only  made  inquiries  through  the 
town." 

"  Perhaps  it  was  some  one  from  Rossau,"  said  Use, 
annoyed.  "  I  hope  he  has  not  made  father  anxious  by 
his  talk." 

Gabriel  shook  his  head.  "  He  meant  something 
by  it;  he  tried  to  find  out  everything  about  the  house, 
and  asked  impudent  questions  that  I  would  not  an- 
swer. As  he  had  a  crafty  look,  I  followed  him  to  the 
nearest  inn,  and  the  waiter  told  me  that  he  was  the 
chamberlain  of  a  Prince."  Gabriel  mentioned  the 
name. 

"That  is  our  Prince  !  "  cried  Use;  "what  can  make 
him  take  such  interest  in  me  ?  " 

"The  man  wished  to  take  some  news  home,"  re- 
plied her  husband.  "  He  was  among  the  retinue  on 
the  hunting  expedition  last  year,  and  it  was  kindly 
meant." 


386  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

This  answer  quieted  Gabriel,  and  Use,  much 
pleased,  said:  "It  is  so  nice  when  one's  Prince  takes 
such  interest  in  his  children  who  are  in  trouble  far 
from  home." 

But  there  was  some  foundation  withal  for  Gabriel's 
shaking  his  head;  the  inquiries  did  signify  something. 


Behind  the  buildings  of  a  country  farm-house,  a 
young  lady  could  be  seen,  tying  up  the  wild  flowers 
of  the  meadow  in  a  large  bouquet;  a  ball  of  blue 
yarn  rolled  in  her  lap  whenever  she  added  a  fresh 
handful  of  flowers.  A  youth  was  running  about  in  the 
deep  grass  before  her,  busily  engaged  in  collecting 
flowers,  placing  them  in  order  and  arranging  them 
according  to  color  for  the  nosegay-maker.  It  was  ev- 
ident that  the  youth  and  young  lady  were  brother  and 
sister  from  the  marked  family  likeness  of  both  coun- 
tenances, and  the  rich  walking-dress  left  no  doubt 
that  they  had  not  blossomed  amidst  the  clover  and 
camomile  of  the  soil,  even  though  the  horses'  heads 
and  the  galoon-trimmed  hats  of  their  attendants  had 
not  been  visible  through  a  gap  between  the  barns. 

"You  will  never  finish  your  bouquet,  Siddy,"  said 
the  young  man,  incredulously,  to  the  lady,  as  she 
awkwardly  tried  to  knot  the  broken  thread. 

"  If  the  thread  were  only  stronger  !  "  cried  the 
busy  maiden;  "do  knot  it  for  me!"  But  it  turned 
out  that  the  young  gentleman  was  not  more  expert 
himself. 

"  Look,  Benno,  how  beautiful  the  bouquet  will  be, 
— that  was  my  idea." 

"  It  is  all  much  too  loose,"  retorted  the  young  man. 

"  It  is  good  enough  for  the  first  time,"  replied 
Siddy;  "  there,  see  my  hands,  how  sweet  they  smell." 


A    COURT    MATTER.  387 

She  showed  the  blue  points  of  her  little  fingers,  hold- 
ing them  up  to  his  face;  and  as  he  good-humoredly 
sniffed  at  them,  she  playfully  rapped  him  on  the  nose. 
"I  have  enough  of  the  red  flowers,"  she  continued, 
again  occupied  with  the  nosegay;  "  now  I  must  have 
one  more  circle  of  white." 

"What  kind  of  white?" 

"  If  I  did  but  know  their  names,"  replied  Siddy, 
thoughtfully;  "  I  mean  Marguerites.  What  do  you 
call  these  white  flowers?"  she  asked,  looking  back  to 
a  countrywoman  who  stood  in  a  respectful  attitude 
some  steps  behind  the  busy  pair,  looking  on  at  their 
proceedings  with  a  pleased  smile. 

"We  call  them  daisies,"  said  the  woman. 

"Ah,  that's  it  ? "  cried  Siddy;  "  cut  long  stalks, 
Benno." 

"They  haven't  got  long  stalks,"  said  Benno,  plain- 
tively, carrying  her  what  he  could  pick  near  at  hand. 
"  I  will  tell  you  what  astonishes  me,"  he  began,  sitting 
down  by  his  sister  on  the  grass.  "This  meadow  is 
full  of  flowers;  when  it  is  mowed  the  grass  becomes 
hay,  and  one  doesn't  see  a  thing  of  all  the  flowers  in 
the  hay." 

"Really?"  replied  Siddy,  tieing  another  thread. 
"They  are  probably  dried  up." 

Benno  shook  his  head.  "  Only  look  at  a  bundle  of 
hay;  you  will  see  few  of  them  in  it.  I  think  the  peo- 
ple gather  them  beforehand,  and  sell  them  in  the 
city." 

Siddy  laughed,  and  pointing  over  the  green  fields, 
said,  "Look  around  you;  they  are  countless,  and  peo- 
ple only  buy  the  more  lasting  garden  flowers;  yet 
these  are  far  prettier.  How  lovely  is  the  star  in  the 
flower  of  our  Lady  Marguerite."  She  held  the  nose- 


388  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

gay  up  to  her  brother,  and  looked  lovingly  at  her  work 
of  art. 

"  You  have  completed  it  after  all,"  said  the  young 
man,  admiringly;  "  you  were  always  a  clever  girl, 
Siddy,  and  I  am  so  sorry  that  you  are  going  away 
from  us,"  he  added,  feelingly. 

His  sister  gazed  earnestly  at  him.  Are  you,  re- 
ally? And  will  you  always  think  kindly  of  me,  my 
brother?  You  are  the  only  one  here  from  whom  I  find 
it  hard  to  part,  Benno.  We  are  like  two  orphan  chil- 
dren sitting  in  the  snow  of  a  cold  winter's  night." 

She  who  thus  spoke  was  Princess  Sidonie,  and  the 
sun  was  shining  warm  on  the  blooming  meadow  be- 
fore her. 

"  How  do  you  like  my  bridegroom?"  she  asked, 
after  a  pause,  busily  winding  the  blue  thread  around 
the  finished  nosegay. 

"  He  is  a  handsome  man,  and  was  very  kind  to 
me,"  said  Benno,  thoughtfully.  "  But  is  he  clever?  " 

Siddy  nodded.  I  think  he  is.  He  writes  nice  let- 
ters. If  you  like,  you  shall  read  one." 

"  I  shall  be  glad  to  do  so,"  said  Benno. 

"  Do  you  know,"  continued  Siddy,  mysteriously, 
that  I  write  to  him  every  day!  For  I  think  a  woman 
ought  to  confide  everything  to  her  husband,  great  and 
small,  and  I  wish  to  accustom  him  and  myself  to  that. 
To  make  sure,  I  write  to  him  under  a  false  address, 
and  my  maid  takes  the  letters  to  the  post,  for  I  fear 
my  stupid  words  might  otherwise  be  read  before  they 
go."  She  said  this  with  apparent  indifference,  ex- 
amining her  bouquet  all  the  while.  "  He  will  hear 
every  little  detail  of  this  visit  to  Lady  Marguerite,  and 
that  it  has  given  you  pleasure.  Now  the  bouquet  is 
ready,"  she  exclaimed,  gaily.  "  I  will  fasten  a  hand- 


A    COURT    MATTER.  389 

kerchief  round  it;  we  will  take  it  in  the  carriage,  and 
I  will  set  it  on  my  writing-table." 

Benno  laughed:  "It  looks  like  a  club.  You  can 
lend  it  this  evening  to  the  savages  in  the  ballet." 

"  It  is  better  than  the  flat  things  which  one  can't 
even  put  in  water,"  replied  the  sister,  jumping  up; 
"  come  along,  we  will  carry  it  to  the  pump." 

They  hastened  to  the  farmyard,  followed  by  the 
peasant  woman.  Benno  took  a  bucket  and  carried  it 
to  the  pump. 

"  Let  me  pump,"  cried  Siddy.  She  seized  the 
handle  and  tried  to  move  it,  but  did  not  succeed;  only 
a  few  drops  ran  into  the  pitcher. 

Benno  objected.  "You  are  too  clumsy,"  he  said, 
"let  me  try  it."  He  now  took  hold  of  the  wooden 
handle,  and  Siddy  held  the  bucket.  He  pumped  vig- 
orously, and  the  water  spurted  out  over  the  bucket, 
upon  the  hands  and  dress  of  the  Princess.  She  made 
a  slight  exclamation,  let  the  bucket  drop,  and  then 
both  burst  out  laughing. 

"  You  have  made  a  nice  mess  of  me,  you  naughty 
wretch,"  cried  Siddy.  "  Oh,  it  makes  no  difference, 
mother,"  she  added,  to  console  the  woman,  who  ran 
up  terrified,  clasping  her  hands.  "  Now,  Benno,  an 
idea  has  occurred  to  me:  I  will  put  on  a  gown  of  our 
dame  Marguerite,  and  you  a  smock-frock  of  her  hus- 
band, and  when  our  cousin  comes  he  will  not  know  us, 
and  we  will  surprise  him." 

"If  all  only  turns  out  well,"  rejoined  Benno,  doubt- 
fully. 

"  No  one  sees  us,"  urged  Siddy.  "Good  mother," 
she  said,  coaxingly,  to  the  country-woman,  "  come  into 
your  room,  and  help  us  to  dress." 

The  young  Prince   and   Princess  took  the  woman 


390  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

by  the  hand  and  led  her  into  the  house.  Benno  laid 
his  coat  down  in  the  hall,  and  looked  doubtfully  at  the 
smock-frock,  which  was  brought  to  him  by  a  stout 
maid,  who  assisted  him  in  putting  it  on.  The  elegant 
peasant  lad  seated  himself  patiently  on  a  bench,  while 
waiting  for  his  companion,  and  employed  his  leisure 
in  turning  a  grinding-stone  and  inquisitively  holding 
the  tips  of  his  fingers  close  to  it.  Whilst  he  was  mak- 
ing this  experiment,  he  received  a  slight  blow  on  his 
back,  and  with  astonishment  beheld,  standing  behind 
him,  a  little  peasant  maid,  in  blue  petticoat  and  black 
jacket,  and  the  usual  cap  of  the  country  on  her  head. 

"  How  do  you  like  my  appearance?"  asked  Siddy, 
crossing  her  arms. 

"  Charmimg,"  exclaimed  Benno.  "I  had  no  idea 
that  I  had  such  a  pretty  sister." 

Siddy  made  a  rustic  curtsy.  "Where  have  you 
kept  your  eyes,  you  foolish  boy?  Now  we  must  help 
in  the  household.  What  work  can  you  give  your  new 
servants,  Mother  Marguerite?" 

The  woman  simpered.  "  There  is  the  fodder  for 
the  cows  to  be  steeped  in  hot  water,"  she  said. 

"No  more  water,  we  have  had  enough  of  that. 
Come,  Benno,  we  will  set  the  table  in  the  garden  under 
the  fruit-trees,  and  then  carry  out  the  curds  and  cream." 

They  went  into  the  room,  and  brought  out  a  small 
bench  placing  it  on  the  grass-plot,  under  an  apple-tree; 
then  they  hurried  back  for  the  plates  and  spoons.  The 
woman  and  the  maid  carried  out  the  table  with  a  large 
bowl  of  milk,  and  some  rye  bread.  Siddy  tripped 
about  nimbly,  laid  the  tablecloth,  and  carefully  smooth- 
ing it  out,  placed  the  colored  earthenware  upon  it. 

"  Look!"  whispered  Benno,  pointing  with  a  troubled 
air  to  the  worn  pewter  spoons. 


A    COURT    MATTER.  39 1 

"  We  can  wash  them,  and  dry  them  with  green 
leaves,"  advised  his  sister. 

They  ran  with  the  spoons  to  the  pump,  and  rubbed 
them  hard  with  leaves,  but  they  could  not  polish  them. 

"That's  just  their  way,"  said  Benno,  consolingly; 
"it  is  part  of  a  country  picnic." 

The  table  was  laid,  and  Siddy  brought  forward 
some  stools  and  wiped  them  with  her  cambric  hand- 
kerchief. 

"You  are  the  Hereditary  Prince,"  said  Siddy,  "so 
you  must  sit  on  the  bench,  and  we  others  on  each  side 
of  you.  The  rye  bread  must  be  crumbled,  but  every 
one  can  do  that  for  themselves.  There  is  no  sugar, 
but  that  doesn't  matter." 

They  sat  waiting  before  the  milk  bowl,  beating  time 
with  the  spoons.  A  little  green  apple  fell  plump  into 
the  milk,  and  spattered  it  about.  Both  burst  out 
laughing,  jumped  up,  and  collected  the  unripe  apples 
and  plums  from  the  grass,  peering  across  the  hedge  at 
a  path  which  led  through  the  woods  to  the  town. 

"There  he  comes,"  cried  Benno;    "hide  yourself!" 

A  horseman  rode  up  at  a  gallop.  It  was  a  young 
officer.  He  threw  himself  off  his  snorting  horse, 
fastened  it  to  a  post,  and  leaped  over  the  hedge.  But 
he  stopped  amazed,  for  he  was  greeted  with  a  cross- 
fire of  unripe  apples  and  plums  from  each  side  of  the 
hedge.  He  quickly  collected  some  of  the  green  shot, 
and  defended  himself  as  well  as  he  could  against  the 
assault.  The  little  peasants  sprang  forth,  and  Benno 
cried  out,  "You  have  kept  us  waiting  a  long  time." 

Siddy  made  him  a  curtsy,  saying,  "  Prince,  the 
butter-milk  is  served." 

Prince  Victor  looked  with  evident  admiration  at 
the  young  peasant.  "Ah!"  he  said,  good-humoredly, 


392  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

"now  one  sees  how  small  the  feet  are  before  which  one 
does  homage.  All  right,  children.  But  first  of  all  I 
must  have  satisfaction  for  the  attack." 

So  saying,  he  knotted  his  pocket-handkerchief;  the 
brother  and  sister  laughed,  and  said,  beseechingly, 
"  Be  good,  cousin,  we  will  not  do  it  again."  "  Ohj 
dear  Ogre,  pardon  and  compassion!  "  implored  Siddy, 
raising  the  corner  of  her  apron  to  her  eyes. 

"  Nothing  of  the  kind,"  cried  Victor;  "I  shall  no 
doubt  be  arrested  again  on  your  account,  and  shall 
therefore  punish  you  beforehand."  He  chased  them 
round  the  table. 

"This  is  disagreeable,  cousin,"  cried  Siddy;  "let 
us  leave  off  this  nonsense,  and  come  to  the  table.  I 
will  help  you.  There  is  the  cream.  Everything  must 
be  fairly  distributed  when  Victor  is  present." 

Victor  examined  the  table.  "  It  is  all  very  nice, 
but  there  is  no  sugar." 

"  There  was  none  to  be  had,"  cried  the  brother  and 
sister,  in  chorus. 

Victor  put  his  hand  into  his  pocket,  and  placed  a 
silver  box  on  the  table.  "  What  would  become  of  you 
without  me?  Here  is  the  sugar."  He  again  dipped 
into  his  pocket,  and  brought  out  a  leathern  flask  with 
a  small  drinking-glass.  "  Here  is  another  important 
thing,  the  cognac." 

"What  for?"  asked  Siddy. 

"To  drink,  most  gracious  cousin.  If  you  will  put 
this  cold  mess  into  your  interior  without  cognac,  I 
shall  not  venture  to  oppose  you;  but  I  advise  you, 
Benno,  as  a  man,  to  take  care  of  your  health." 

Both  held  their  spoons  with  an  air  of  embarrass- 
ment. 

"Is  that  necessary?"  asked  Benno,  distrustfully. 


A    COURT    MATTER.  3Q3 

"It  is  a  pacifier,  as  our  doctor  says,"  declared  Vic- 
tor; "it  calms  and  quells  the  rebel  substances  into 
quiet  submission.  If  you  refuse  the  cognac,  it  is  just 
like  on  the  way  to  hell.  The  path  is  easy  at  the  be- 
ginning, but  what  follows  is  chaos.  At  all  events,  you 
would  be  spared  the  ballet  to-day.  Is  that  clear  to 
you?" 

"It  is  very  clear,"  cried  Siddy,  "that  you  are  as 
usual  making  sport  of  us.  Give  him  a  rap  on  his  fin- 
gers, Benno." 

Benno  tapped  his  hand  with  the  spoon.  Victor 
sprang  up  and  parried  it,  in  fencing  posture,  with  his 
spoon;  and  the  brother  and  sister  chased  their  cousin 
merrily  about  among  the  trees. 

They  were  disturbed  by  a  hasty  tread,  and  a  lackey 
made  his  appearance  for  a  moment  at  the  garden- 
gate.  "  His  most  Serene  Highness  is  riding  this  way," 
he  called  out. 

All  three  stood  still;  the  spoons  fell  into  the  grass. 
"We  are  betrayed,"  cried  Siddy,  turning  pale.  "Away 
with  you,  Victor." 

"I  am  an  officer,  and  dare  not  run  away,"  he  re- 
plied, shrugging  his  shoulders.  He  seized  his  sword 
and  hastily  fastened  it. 

"You  must  take  it  all  upon  yourself,"  Benno,  ex- 
claimed the  sister. 

"I  would  willingly  doit,"  replied  he,  timidly,  "but 
I  have  never  had  any  skill  in  invention." 

The  Prince  dismounted  in  front  of  the  farm-house, 
helped  by  his  equerry.  The  lackey  hastened  forward 
to  open  the  doors,  and  the  Prince  approached  slowly 
like  a  threatening  storm.  He  entered  the  garden,  and 
his  sharp  eyes  rested  on  the  embarrassed  Prince  and 
Princess,  who  stifly  made  their  obeisances  to  him. 


394  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

An  ironical  smile  curled  his  lip  when  he  saw  the 
dishes  on  the  table.  "Who  has  arranged  this  country 
carnival?"  he  asked.  All  were  silent.  "Answer, 
Benno,"  he  said,  turning  sharply  to  the  young  gen- 
tleman in  the  blue  smock-frock. 

"  Siddy  and  I  wished  to  have  a  little  pastime  in 
the  meadow  before  she  left  our  country.  I  spilled 
some  water  over  my  sister,  and  she  was  obliged  to 
change  her  dress." 

"Where  is  your  lady  in  waiting,  Sidonie?"  he  asked 
his  daughter. 

"  I  begged  her  to  go  to  her  aunt  who  lives  in  this 
neighborhood,  and  to  return  in  an  hour,"  replied  the 
Princess  Sidonie. 

"She  has  not  done  right  in  forgetting  my  com- 
mands, in  order  to  gratify  yours;  and  she  neglected 
her  duty  in  exposing  the  Princess  to  such  an  ad- 
venture. It  is  not  fitting  that  princesses  should  enter 
village  houses  alone,  and  disguise  themselves." 

The  Princess  compressed  her  lips.  "  My  gracious 
lord  and  father,  forgive  me.  I  was  not  alone.  I  had 
the  best  protector  with  me  that  a  princess  of  our  house 
could  have,  that  was  your  Highness's  son,  my 
brother." 

The  Prince  drew  back  a  few  steps,  and  looked  si- 
lently into  her  face;  and,  so  strong  was  the  expression 
of  anger  and  displeasure  in  his  countenance,  that  the 
Princess  turned  pale  and  cast  down  her  eyes. 

"Has  the  Princess  appointed  Prince  Victor  to  be 
her  protector  in  the  peasant's  farm?"  he  inquired. 
"Has  Lieutenant" — he  mentioned  his  family  name — 
" permission  to  leave  the  garrison?" 

"  I  came  here  on  horseback  without  permission," 
replied  Victor,  with  military  composure. 


A    COURT    MATTER.  395 

"Report  yourself  under  arrest,"  commanded  the 
Prince. 

Victor  saluted  and  turned  away.  He  unfastened 
his  horse,  and,  nodding  behind  the  Prince's  back,  over 
the  hedge,  to  his  cousin,  he  trotted  back  to  the  town. 

"Make  haste  and  cease  this  mummery,"  ordered 
the  Prince.  "The  Princess  will  drive  home  in  a  car- 
riage with  the  Hereditary  Prince." 

The  young  people  made  their  obeisances  and  left 
the  garden. 

"  I  had  a  foreboding  of  this  misfortune,"  said  the 
Hereditary  Prince,  to  his  sister,  when  in  the  carriage. 
"Poor  Siddy!" 

"  I  would  rather  be  the  maid  of  this  countrywoman, 
and  wear  wooden  shoes,  than  continue  to  bear  this  life 
of  slavery,"  cried  the  angry  Princess. 

"  But  do  not  make  any  remarks  at  dinner,"  begged 
Benno. 

The  nosegay  of  wild  flowers  stood  in  the  bucket, 
and  was  torn  to  pieces  in  the  evening  by  the  country- 
woman's cow. 

*  * 

* 

The  day  following,  the  Lord  High  Steward,  von  Ot- 
tenburg,  an  old  gentleman  with  white  hair,  entered  the 
apartment  of  the  Prince. 

"  I  have  requested  your  Excellence  to  call  on  me," 
began  the  Prince,  politely,  "  because  I  wish  to  obtain 
your  advice  in  a  family  matter.  The  day  approaches 
when  the  Princess  will  leave  us.  Have  you  seen  my 
daughter  to-day?"  he  said,  interrupting  himself. 

"  I  come  from  her  Highness,"  answered  the  old 
gentleman  respectfully. 

The  Prince  smiled.  "Yesterday  I  had  to  speak 
seriously  to  her.  The  children  took  into  their  heads 


396  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

to  act  an  idyl,  and  I  found  them  in  peasants'  dresses 
and  in  high  glee.  Our  dear  Siddy  had  forgotten  that 
such  sport  might  expose  her  to  misinterpretation, 
which  she  has  every  reason  to  avoid." 

The  Lord  High  Steward  bowed  in  silence. 

"  But  it  is  not  a  question  of  the  Princess  now.  The 
time  has  arrived  when  a  decision  must  be  made  con- 
cerning the  next  few  years  of  the  Hereditary  Prince's 
life.  I  have  thought  of  his  entering  one  of  the  large 
armies,  in  spite  of  the  consideration  due  to  his  delicate 
health.  You  know  that  there  is  only  one  empire  in 
which  this  is  possible,  and  even  there  unexpected 
difficulties  have  arisen.  There  are  two  regiments  in 
which  one  might  be  certain  that  the  Prince  would  only 
have  familiar  intercourse  with  the  officers  of  high 
birth.  One  of  these  regiments  is  commanded  by 
Colonel  Kobell,  who  quitted  our  service  some  years 
ago.  It  is  not  fitting  to  make  the  Prince  his  subordi- 
nate. In  the  other  regiment  an  unexpected  occur- 
rence has  taken  place  within  this  last  month.  A  cer- 
tain Mr.  Miller  has  been  introduced  into  it,  contrary 
to  the  wishes  of  the  corps  of  officers.  Thus  the  He- 
reditary Prince  is  debarred  from  belonging  to  the  only 
army  which  he  could  enter." 

"Allow  me  to  ask  whether  this  second  hindrance 
might  not  be  removed?"  said  the  Lord  High  Steward. 

"They  would  gladly  do  anything  to  please  us,"  re- 
plied the  Prince,  "but  they  do  not  know  how  to  man- 
age it;  for  the  appointment  of  this  unaristocratic  lieu- 
tenant was  made  for  political  reasons." 

"  Could  the  difficulty  not  be  removed  by  giving 
rank  to  the  family  of  the  lieutenant?"  suggested  the 
Lord  High  Steward. 

"That   has  been   cautiously   tried,   but  the  father 


A    COURT    MATTER.  397 

would  not  consent;  and,  indeed,  your  Excellence,  the 
objection  would  remain  the  same.  You  know  that  I 
am  not  a  purist  in  these  things,  but  daily  intercourse 
with  such  a  person  would  be  unpleasant  to  the  He- 
reditary Prince.  Whether  Miller,  or  Von  Miller,  the 
dust  of  the  flour  would  remain." 

There  was  a  pause.  At  last  the  Lord  High  Stew- 
ard began:  "The  advantages  of  a  military  career  are 
certainly  undeniable  for  young  princes  who  have  no 
means  or  chance  of  finding  other  active  employment; 
but  is  this  course  advisable  for  a  future  sovereign  who 
needs  a  preparation  for  a  great  career?  I  remember 
that  in  former  times  your  Highness  did  not  take  a  fa- 
vorable view  of  a  soldier's  life  at  Court." 

"I  do  not  deny  that,"  replied  the  Prince.  "  I  must 
acknowledge  to  you  that  I  still  take  this  view.  The 
usual  condition  of  society  is  not  now  that  of  war,  but 
of  peace.  The  necessary  training  of  a  young  prince 
for  war  undoubtedly  develops  some  manly  parts  of 
his  character,  but  delivers  him  helplessly  into  the 
hands  of  his  officials  in  all  essential  matters.  In  confi- 
dence, your  Excellence,  a  pleasure  in  epaulets  lasts 
just  during  the  time  of  peace;  but  in  case  of  a  great 
war,  where  real  military  talent  is  requisite,  the  mili- 
tary dilettanteism  of  princes,  with  few  exceptions, 
turns  out  to  be  quite  useless.  All  this  is  undeniable. 
Unfortunately  it  is  at  present  no  longer  fashion  that 
determines  a  military  career  for  young  princes,  it  is  a 
serious  necessity.  The  times  in  which  we  live  are 
such  that  a  strict  connection  between  the  Court 
and  armies  is  inevitable;  and  what  at  one  time  was 
thought  to  be  unnecessary  is  now  the  support  of 
princes." 

"  I  do  not  see  that  the  position  of  reigning  princes 


398  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

is  strengthened  by  their  being  bad  generals,"  answered 
the  Lord  High  Steward.  "  Indeed,  I  venture  to  assert 
that  many  of  the  difficulties  which  now  occur  between 
princes  and  their  people  arise  from  the  fact  that  our 
princes  occupy  themselves  too  much  with  the  shoeing 
of  horses,  the  training  of  recruits,  and  with  the  preju- 
dices and  ill  conduct  of  garrisons,  and  have  too  little 
of  the  firmness,  noble  pride,  and  princely  feeling  which 
can  only  be  developed  by  practice  in  worthier 
affairs." 

The  Prince  smiled.  "Your  Excellence,  then,  is  of 
the  opinion  that  the  Hereditary  Prince  should  visit  the 
University,  for  there  is  no  other  mode  of  training  when 
he  leaves  this  Court.  The  Prince  is  weak  and  easily 
led,  and  the  dangers  he  would  incur  on  this  path  are 
still  greater  than  intercourse  with  officers  of  inferior 
grade." 

"  It  is  true,"  interposed  the  Lord  High  Steward, 
"that  during  the  next  few  years  the  Hereditary  Prince 
may  find  certain  drawbacks  in  the  advantages  of  an 
academy;  but  with  respect  to  personal  intercourse, 
there  are  sons  of  ancient  families  who  are  worthy  of 
the  honor  of  associating  with  the  Prince.  It  would 
perhaps  be  easier  there  for  the  young  gentleman  to 
keep  clear  of  unsuitable  society  than  in  a  regiment." 

"It  is  not  this  danger  which  I  tear  for  him,"  re- 
plied the  Prince;  "but  the  unpractical  theories  and 
disturbing  ideas  which  are  there  promulgated." 

"  Yet  we  should  learn  what  one  has  to  battle 
against,"  rejoined  the  Lord  High  Steward.  "Does 
your  Highness  think,  from  the  varied  experience 
which  you  have  attained  through  a  highly  intellectual 
life,  that  an  acquaintaince  with  these  ideas  is  so  dan- 
gerous?" 


A    COURT    MATTER.  3Q9 

"Does  a  person  go  to  hell  in  order  to  become 
pious?"  asked  the  Prince,  good-humoredly. 

"A  great  poet  having  ventured  this,"  replied  the 
Lord  High  Steward,  "wrote  his  divine  poem;  and  my 
gracious  lord,  who  himself  has  always  preserved  a 
warm  interest  in  learned  pursuits,  considers  our  Uni- 
versities at  best  a  species  of  mild  purgatory.  If  an 
infernal  flame  should  cling  to  the  soil  of  our  illustri- 
ous Prince  after  his  return  from  this  place,  it  will  soon 
be  eradicated  by  the  high  interests  of  his  princely 
calling." 

"Yes,"  assented  the  Prince,  with  lofty  expression, 
"  there  is  a  consecration  in  the  office  of  princes  which 
fits  even  a  weak  man  for  the  great  interests  which  he 
has  to  grapple  with  through  his  life.  But,  your  Ex- 
cellence, it  is  difficult  to  observe  without  contemptu- 
ous pity  the  sentimental  fools'  paradise  of  the  new 
rulers,  and  hear  the  old  phrases  of  love  and  confidence 
believed  in  and  spoken  of  by  princely  mouths.  Un- 
doubtedly these  popular  ebullitions  are  transitory,  and 
many  of  us  older  ones  have  once  indulged  in  dreams, 
and  endeavoured  to  plant  green  moss  where  it  has 
been  withered  by  the  sun;  but  the  fearful  dangers  of 
the  present  times  make  such  wavering  more  danger- 
ous to  the  new  rulers,  and  false  steps  in  the  beginning 
of  a  reign  may  often  ruin  the  position  of  the  ruler 
afterwards." 

The  Lord  High  Steward  replied  apologetically: 
"  It  is  perhaps  well  to  be  wiser  than  others,  but  to  be 
more  moderate  is  at  no  period  advantageous.  Still  a 
little  poetry  and  youthful  enthusiasm  may  be  allowed 
to  our  princes;  and  if  I  therefore  venture  to  recom- 
mend a  visit  to  the  University  for  his  Highness,  the 
Hereditary  Prince,  it  is  with  the  satisfactory  feeling 


400  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

that  in  doing  so  I  express  your  Highness's  own  opin- 
ion." 

The  Prince  looked  sharply  at  the  Lord  High  Stew- 
ard, and  a  sudden  cloud  passed  over  his  brow.  "How 
should  you  know  what  my  secret  thoughts  are?" 

"That  would  be  quite  a  vain  attempt  with  your 
Highness,"  replied  the  old  courtier,  gently,  "  and  it 
would  little  benefit  an  old  servant  to  spy  into  the  se- 
cret thoughts  of  his  master.  But  your  Highness  has 
always  hitherto  given  the  Hereditary  Prince  tutors 
and  attendants  who  were  not  military.  This  leads 
every  one  to  a  conclusion  respecting  your  Highness's 
wishes." 

"You  are  right,  as  always,"  said  the  Prince,  ap- 
peased. "It  is  a  pleasure  to  me  to  find  that  your 
views  coincide  with  mine.  For  it  is  a  serious  decis- 
ion that  I  have  to  make;  it  robs  me  for  a  long  time 
of  the  company  of  my  dear  Benno." 

The  Lord  High  Steward  showed  his  sympathy  by 
a  silent  bow.  "Your  Highness's  decision  will  un- 
doubtedly produce  great  changes,  for  it  will  at  the 
same  time  remove  all  the  young  people  from  the 
Court." 

"All?"  asked  the  Prince,  surprised.     "The  Hered 
itary  Prince  will   depart  shortly  after  the  marriage  of 
his  sister,  but  Prince  Victor  will  still  remain  here." 

"Then  I  humbly  beg  your  pardon,"  rejoined  the 
Lord  High  Steward.  "I  had  taken  for  granted  that 
the  departure  of  the  Hereditary  Prince  would  be  fol- 
lowed by  the  entrance  of  Prince  Victor  into  a  foreign 
army." 

"What  makes  you  think  that?"  said  the  Prince, 
with  surprise.  "  I  have  not  the  least  intention  of  pro- 


A    COURT    MATTER.  401 

viding  for  Prince  Victor  abroad;  he  may  practice  the 
art  of  riding  in  our  squadrons." 

"  In  this  case  his  position  at  Court  would  be 
changed,"  said  the  Lord  High  Steward,  thoughtfully; 
"  on  occasions  he  would  rank  and  act  as  the  represen- 
tative member  of  this  illustrious  house." 

"What  are  you  thinking  of,"  my  Lord  High  Stew- 
ard?" replied  the  Prince,  captiously. 

"Will  your  Highness  graciously  explain  how  that 
can  be  avoided?  The  rights  of  blood  can  never  be 
given  or  taken  away.  The  Prince  is  the  nearest  rela- 
tive of  the  Royal  Family,  and  the  rules  of  the  Court 
require  a  corresponding  position,  and  the  Court  v/ill 
insist  that  he  be  not  deprived  of  it." 

"The  Court!"  exclaimed  the  Prince,  contemptu- 
ously; "  You  might  as  well  say  at  once,  the  Lord  High 
Steward." 

"  The  Lord  High  Steward  is  appointed  by  your 
Highness  to  watch  over  the  regulations  of  the  Court," 
replied  the  old  gentleman,  with  solemnity.  "But  as 
my  personal  opinion,  I  venture  to  suggest  that  service 
in  this  capital  and  the  proximity  of  the  Court  are  not 
advantageous  for  the  active  and  energetic  spirit  of 
Prince  Victor;  it  may  be  foreseen  that  your  Highness 
will  often  have  occasion  to  be  dissatisfied  with  him, 
and  that  the  loss  of  your  Highness's  favour,  consider- 
ing the  lively  and  popular  character  of  the  Prince, 
may  give  occasion  to  continual  scandal  and  malicious 
talk.  Therefore  I  venture  to  assume  that  the  consid- 
erations which  hinder  the  military  career  of  the  He- 
reditary Prince  in  a  foreign  army  will  have  no  weight 
as  regards  Prince  Victor." 

The  Prince  looked  down  moodily.  At  last  he  be- 
gan, as  if  convinced:  "  I  thank  you  for  having  called 


402  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

my  attention  to  these  considerations:  I  will  come  to  a 
decision  after  mature  deliberation.  Your  Excellence 
may  be  satisfied  that  I  know  how  to  value  the  warm 
sympathy  you  take  in  me  and  mine." 

The  Lord  High  Steward  bowed  and  left  the  room; 
the  furrows  deepened  in  the  face  of  the  Prince  as  he 
looked  after  the  old  man. 

The  consequence  of  this  conversation  was  that  the 
Hereditary  Prince  was  sent  to  the  University,  where 
the  event  did  not  create  so  much  commotion  as  was 
expected  at  Court. 

The  Rector,  one  evening,  came  to  Professor  Wer- 
ner, and  after  greeting  Use,  began,  "  You  set  a  good 
example  to  your  country  when  you  came  to  us;  a  com- 
munication has  been  made  from  head-quarters  to  the 
University  that  in  the  next  term  your  Hereditary 
Prince  will  begin  his  studies  with  us."  Then,  turning 
to  the  Professor,  he  continued:  "It  is  expected  that 
we  shall  all  do  what  we  can,  compatibly  with  the  duties 
of  our  office,  to  advance  the  education  of  the  young 
Prince.  I  have  to  convey  to  you  the  wishes  of  his 
Highness  that  you  should  lecture  to  the  Hereditary 
Prince  in  his  own  room." 

"I  shall  give  no  Prince's  lectures,"  replied  the 
Professor;  "my  branch  of  learning  is  too  comprehen- 
sive for  that;  it  cannot  be  put  into  a  nutshell." 

"Perhaps  you  could  lecture  on  some  popular 
theme,"  advised  the  prudent  Rector.  "It  appears  to 
me  that  greater  value  attaches  to  the  beneficial  effect 
of  your  personal  intercourse  with  the  Prince  than  to 
the  contents  of  your  lectures." 

"  If  it  is  agreeable  to  the  Prince  to  be  in  our  house, 
and  he  will  accommodate  himself  to  our  habits,  I  shall 
show  him  every  respectful  and  fitting  attention.  But 


A    COURT    MATTER.  403 

in  my  course  of  instruction  I  shalf  make  no  change  on 
his  account.  If  he  attends  my  lectures  as  a  student, 
well  and  good;  but  I  will  never  give  any  private  les- 
sons in  his  room  or  in  that  of  any  one  else." 

"Will  not  your  refusal  be  regarded  as  an  incivility?" 
rejoined  the  Rector. 

"It  is  possible,"  replied  the  Professor,  "and  I  must 
acknowledge  to  you  that  in  this  case  it  is  particularly 
painful  to  me.  But  no  personal  consideration  shall 
induce  me  to  give  up  a  principle.  I  have  formerly 
experienced  how  humiliating  it  is  to  have  to  fashion 
and  fit  a  serious  subject  to  the  comprehension  of  a  boy 
who  has  not  the  necessary  preparatory  knowledge  and 
the  power  of  grasping  and  taking  a  real  interest  in 
it.  I  shall  never  do  it  again.  But  I  will  do  all  that  I 
can  for  this  young  gentleman,  although  I  must  confess 
that  my  studies  lie  far  from  the  high  road  of  princely 
education.  If  they  wish  to  learn  of  us  what  may  be 
profitable  for  their  future  life,  they  must  do  so  in  a 
regular  way,  and  they  should  come  to  us  with  the  pre- 
paratory knowledge  which  alone  will  make  it  possible 
for  them  to  derive  advantage  from  learning.  I  have 
here  and  there  observed  from  a  distance  how  sad  is 
the  education  of  most  of  them.  The  shallow  and  su- 
perficial nature  of  their  training,  which  renders  it 
almost  impossible  for  them  to  take  a  warm  interest  is 
any  domain  of  intellectual  labor,  is  also  of  little  value 
for  their  future  life,  and  gives  them  little  capacity  for 
their  duties  as  rulers.  We  participate  in  inflicting 
this  injury,  if  we  impart  a  mere  varnish  of  learned  cul- 
ture to  youths  who  have  not  in  truth  as  much  knowl- 
edge as  a  freshman.  And  that  is  usually  the  object. 
It  is  not  necessary  to  visit  the  University  in  order  to 
become  a  useful  man;  but  if  one  enters  this  difficult 


404  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

path — and  I  think  undoubtedly  that  every  future  ruler 
ought  to  do  so — it  should  be  in  a  way  that  will  secure 
valuable  results.  I  do  not  condemn  the  teachers  who 
think  otherwise,"  concluded  the  Professor,  "  there  are 
undoubtedly  subjects  in  which  a  succinct  presentation 
of  some  of  the  leading  principles  is  possible  and  pro- 
fitable. But  the  study  of  ancient  learning  is  not  of 
this  class,  and,  therefore,  I  beg  to  be  excused  from 
giving  private  lessons  to  the  young  Prince." 

The  Rector  expressed  his  approbation  of  these 
principles. 

"My  poor  Hereditary  Prince,"  cried  Use,  pity- 
ingly, when  the  Rector  left. 

"My  poor  manuscript,"  retorted  the  Professor, 
laughing. 

"But  you  have  made  an  exception  in  favor  of 
your  wife,"  rejoined  Use. 

"Here  the  instruction  is  only  the  guide  to  the 
elucidation  of  our  whole  life,"  replied  the  Professor. 
"Under  these  circumstances,  you  will  be  able  to  con- 
template only  from  a  distance  the  future  Sovereign  of 
Bielstein  as  belonging  to  you;  and  I  shall  also  lose 
certain  faint  hopes  which  I  had  built  upon  the  pass- 
ing acquaintance  with  his  father.  For  it  is  undoubt- 
edly probable  that  my  refusal  will  be  considered  as  an 
act  of  capricious  pride." 

The  Professor  might  have  been  at  ease  upon  this 
point.  Care  would  be  taken  that  his  views  should 
not  reach  the  destination  for  which  they  were  in- 
tended. The  sharpness  would  be  blunted,  the  point 
broken,  for  indeed  in  the  higher  regions  such  an  idea 
would  be  considered  so  monstrous  that  it  could  only 
be  put  down  to  the  account  of  a  reprobate  man;  and 
this  was  by  no  means  the  case  with  the  Professor. 


A    COURT    MATTER.  405 

The  Rector  was  cautious  enough  to  give  plausible 
reasons  for  Werner's  refusal,  and  at  the  Prince's  pal- 
ace it  was  determined  that  the  Hereditary  Prince 
should  attend  the  Professor's  lectures.  From  a  syl- 
labus of  Werner's  lectures  a  course  was  selected;  it 
was  on  the  inspection  and  explanation  of  casts  of  an- 
tique sculpture,  during  which  the  Hereditary  Prince 
and  his  attendant  had  at  least  not  to  sit  among  a 
crowd  of  colored  caps,  but  could  wander  about  in 
princely  isolation. 


Again  did  the  ripened  ears  of  corn  wave  gently 
under  the  autumn  breeze,  when  Use  went  with  her 
husband  to  the  home  of  her  childhood  to  visit  her  fa- 
ther. A  year  abounding  in  happiness,  but  not  free 
from  pain,  had  passed.  Her  own  life  also  had  been  a 
little  history  in  which  she  had  experienced  peace  and 
strife,  progress  and  weakness.  Her  pale  cheeks 
showed  that  she  had  encountered  suffering,  and  her 
thoughtful  countenance  portrayed  the  serious  thoughts 
that  had  passed  through  her  mind;  but  when  she 
glanced  at  the  weather-beaten  church,  and  fixed  her 
eyes  on  the  dark  roof  of  her  father's  house,  everything 
was  forgotten,  and  she  felt  again  as  a  child  in  the 
peaceful  home  which  now  appeared  so  refreshing  and 
comforting.  The  farm-people  thronged  round  the 
gate;  and  her  sisters  rushed  to  meet  her,  and  her  fa- 
ther, towering  above  all,  helped  her  and  her  husband 
out  of  the  carriage.  She  clasped  every  one  of  them  in 
a  silent  embrace;  but  when  little  Franz  sprang  up  to 
her,  she  pressed  him  to  her  heart,  and,  losing  all  her 
composure,  burst  into  tears,  and  the  father  was  obliged 
to  take  the  child  from  her  arms. 

They  could  only  pay  a  short  visit,  for  his  profes- 


406  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

sional  duties  compelled  the  Professor  to  return  home 
soon;  and  though  he  had  proposed  to  Use  to  remain 
longer  with  her  father,  she  declined  doing  so. 

The  father  looked  searchingly  at  the  manner  and 
countenance  of  his  daughter,  and  made  the  Professor 
tell  him  repeatedly  how  rapidly  and  easily  she  had 
made  herself  at  home  in  the  city.  Meanwhile  Use 
flew  through  the  farm-yard  and  garden  out  into  the 
fields,  again  gambolling  with  her  little  sisters,  who 
would  not  let  go  her  hand. 

"You  are  all  grown,"  she  exclaimed,  "but  my  curly 
head  most  of  all — he  will  be  like  his  father.  You  will 
be  a  country  gentleman,  Franz." 

"  No,  a  Professor,"  answered  the  boy. 

"Ah,  you  poor  child!"  said  Use. 

The  laborers  left  their  work  and  hastened  to 
meet  her,  and  there  were  many  kind  greetings  and 
questions:  the  head  carter  stopped  his  horses,  and  the 
grey  mare  tossed  her  head.  "  She  knows  you  well," 
said  the  man,  cracking  his  whip  gaily. 

Use  went  into  the  village,  to  pay  a  tribute  of  re- 
spect to  the  dead  and  to  visit  the  living.  It  was  with 
difficulty  that  she  could  get  away  from  the  invalid 
Benz,  and  when  at  last  she  did  so,  he  called  for  his 
slate,  and  with  trembling  hands  gave  expression  to  his 
joy  in  poetry.  She  then  made  a  careful  inspection  of 
the  farm-yard.  Accompanied  by  a  train  of  maids,  she 
walked  between  the  rows  of  cattle,  in  spite  of  her 
fashionable  dress,  like  the  legendary  Frau  Berchta, 
who  scattered  blessings  throughout  the  stable  and 
house.  She  stopped  before  every  horned  head;  the 
cows  raised  their  mouths  to  her,  lowing;  and  there  was 
some  important  news  to  tell  of  each.  The  maids 
proudly  showed  her  the  young  calves,  and  begged  her 


A    COURT    MATTER.  407 

to  give  names  to  the  gr.own-up  heifers — for  the  pro- 
prietor had  desired  that  these  young  ones  should  be 
named  by  Use — and  she  gave  them  the  distinguished 
names  of  Kalypso  and  Xantippe.  All  was  familiar,  all 
as  formerly,  and  yet  at  every  step  there  was  something 
new  to  eye  and  ear. 

Clara  showed  her  household  accounts:  the  young 
girl  had  kept  them  admirably.  The  praises  which 
were  bestowed  upon  her  by  the  house-keeper  and  by  the 
dairy  maid,  in  confidential  conversations,  gave  Use 
great  pleasure,  and  she  said:  "  Now,  I  am  quite  satis- 
fied you  can  do  without  me  here." 

Towards  evening  the  Professor  sought  his  wife, 
who  had  been  absent  some  hours.  He  heard  the 
noise  of  the  children  by  the  brook,  and  guessed  where 
Use  was.  When  he  turned  round  the  rock  by  the 
cave  he  saw  her  sitting  in  the  shadow,  her  eyes  turned 
to  her  father's  house.  He  called  her  name,  and 
stretched  out  his  arms  towards  her;  she  flew  to  his 
bosom,  and  said,  softly:  "  I  know  that  my  home  is  in 
your  heart;  bear  with  me,  when  old  recollections  crowd 
upon  my  mind  and  move  me  deeply." 

At  night,  when  her  father  conducted  the  Professor 
to  his  bedroom,  still  conversing  with  him  upon  busi- 
ness and  politics,  Use  sent  her  sister  Clara  to  bed,  and 
seated  herself  in  her  chair.  When  her  father  came  in 
to  fetch  his  candle  from  the  table,  he  found  Use  again 
in  her  old  place,  waiting  to  bid  him  good  night,  while 
she  handed  him  the  candle  stick.  He  placed  it  on  the 
table,  and,  walking  up  and  down  the  room,  as  he  had 
done  of  yore,  began,  "  You  are  paler  and  more  serious 
than  you  used  to  be.  Will  that  pass?" 

"  I  hope  it  will,"  replied  his   daughter.      After  a 


408  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

time  she  continued,  "  They'  believe  and  think  very 
differently  in  the  city  from  what  we  do,  father." 

The  father  nodded.  "That  was  the  reason  I  was 
anxious  about  you." 

"  And  it  is  impossible  for  me  to  free  myself  from 
painful  thoughts,"  said  Use,  softly. 

"  Poor  child,"  said  the  father,  "  it  passes  my  powers 
to  help  you.  For  us,  in  the  country,  it  is  easy  to  be- 
lieve in  a  father's  care,  when  one  goes  across  the  fields 
and  sees  the  growth  of  everything.  But  let  a  simple 
countryman  say  a  word  in  confidence  to  you.  Mode- 
ration and  self-renunciation  are  necessary  in  all  earthly 
concerns.  We  are  not  better  in  the  country  and  more 
sensible  because  we  care  little  for  what  is  mysterious 
to  man.  We  have  no  time  for  subtle  inquiries,  and  if 
a  thought  alarms  us,ourwork  helps  to  dispel  our  doubts. 
But  thoughts  return  frequently.  I  have  had  days — 
and  have  still — when  my  brains  have  been  on  the  rack, 
although  I  knew  that  no  good  would  come  of  it;  there- 
fore I  now  endeavor  to  keep  such  thoughts  away. 
This  is  prudence,  but  it  is  not  courage.  You  are  placed 
in  a  sphere  in  which  hearing  and  reflecting  are  un- 
avoidable. You  must  struggle  through  it,  Use.  But 
do  not  forget  two  things:  on  difficult  subjects  men 
take  very  different  points  of  view,  and  on  that  account 
they  have,  from  the  most  ancient  times,  hated  and 
slaughtered  each  other  like  cannibals,  merely  because 
each  considered  himself  in  the  right.  This  should  be 
a  warning  to  us.  There  is  only  one  thing  effectual 
against  doubts:  to  do  your  duty  and  concern  yourself 
with  what  lies  in  your  daily  path;  for  the  rest,  do  not 
despair  because  one  thinks  differently  from  another. 
Are  you  sure  of  your  husband's  love?" 

"  Yes,"  replied  Use. 


A    COURT    MATTER.  409 

"  And  have  you  a  thorough  respect  for  his  con- 
duct to  yourself  and  others?" 

"  Yes." 

"  Then  all  is  well,"  said  the  father;  "  for  a  tree  is 
known  by  its  fruits.  As  regards  the  rest,  do  not  worry 
about  the  present  or  the  future.  Give  me  the  candle, 
and  go  to  your  husband.  Good  night,  Frau  Professor." 


[END  OF  FIRST  VOLUME.] 


THE 

LOST   MANUSCRIPT 


A  NOVEL 


GUSTAV  FREYTAG 


Authorized  Translation  from  the  Sixteenth  German  Edition 
COMPLETE  IN  ONE  VOLUME 


SECOND,    UNALTERED   EDITION 


PART  II 


"A  noble  human  life  does  not  end  on  earth 
•with  death.  It  continues  in  the  minds  and 
the  deeds  of  friends,  as  well  as  in  the  thoughts 
and  the  activity  of  the  nation." 


CHICAGO 

THE  OPEN  COURT  PUBLISHING  COMPANY 

LONDON:  REGAN  PAUL,  TRENCH.  TRUEBNBR  &  co. 

1898 


No  one  who  has  -written  a  book  has  of  himself  become  what 
he  is:  every  one  stands  on  the  shoulders  of  his  predecessor ;  all 
that  was  produced  before  his  time  has  helped  to  form  his  life 
and  soul.  Again,  what  he  has  produced,  has  in  some  sort  formed 
other  men,  and  thus  his  soul  has  passed  to  later  times.  In  this 
way  the  contents  of  books  form  one  great  soul-empire  on  earth, 
and  all  who  now  ^urite,  live  and  nourish  themselves  on  the  souls 
of  the  past  generations.  From  this  point  of  view  the  soul  of 
mankind  is  an  immeasurable  unity,  which  comprises  every  one 
who  ever  thus  lived  and  worked,  as  well  as  those  who  breathe 
and  produce  new  works  at  present.  The  soul,  which  past  gen- 
erations felt  as  their  own,  has  been  and  is  daily  transmigrating 
into  others.  What  is  written  to-day  may  to-morrow  become  the 
possession  of  thousands  of  strangers.  Those  who  have  long  ago 
ceased  to  exist  in  the  body  continue  to  live  in  new  forms  here  on 
earth,  and  daily  revive  in  thousands  of  others. 

GUSTAV  FREYTAG. 


CONTENTS: 


CHAPTER   XXI.  PAGE 

THE  BUTTER  MACHINE i 

CHAPTER   XXII. 
THREE  COUNCILS        29 

CHAPTER  XXIII. 
PHILOPENA 49 

CHAPTER   XXIV. 
AMONG  THE  STUDENTS 86 

CHAPTER   XXV. 
CHAOS 112 

CHAPTER   XXVI. 
THE  DRAMA 132 

CHAPTER   XXVII. 
THE  SOVEREIGN 154 

CHAPTER   XXVIII 
IN  THE  PAVILION 177 

CHAPTER   XXIX. 
Two  NEW  GUESTS 193 

CHAPTER   XXX. 
VEXATIONS 230 


CHAPTER   XXXI.  PAGE 

HUMMEL'S  TRIUMPH 262 

CHAPTER   XXXII. 
A  CHAPTER  FROM  TACITUS       280 

CHAPTER   XXXIII. 
CESAREAN  INSANITY  IN  THE  HUMMEL  FAMILY 303 

CHAPTER   XXXIV. 
OLD  ACQUAINTANCES       326 

CHAPTER   XXXV. 
IN  THE  PRINCESS'S  TOWER 355 

CHAPTER   XXXVI. 
ILSE'S  FLIGHT 376 

CHAPTER   XXXVII. 
THE  LORD  HIGH  STEWARD 405 

CHAPTER   XXXVIII. 
THE  MAGISTER'S  EXIT 437 

CHAPTER   XXXIX. 
BEFORE  THE  CRISIS 464 

CHAPTER   XL. 
ON  THE  ROAD  TO  THE  ROCK 482 

CHAPTER   XLI. 
IN  THE  CAVE 510 

CHAPTER   XLII. 
TOBIAS  BACHHUBER 519 


CHAPTER  XXI. 
THE    BUTTER    MACHINE. 

IN  the  large  hall  of  the  University  a  select  audience 
was  assembled ;  state  and  municipal  dignitaries,  and 
men  of  learning,  and  students,  were  constantly  stream- 
ing backwards  and  forwards  through  the  doors  of  the 
great  entrance.  The  wives  of  the  Professors  sat  above 
in  the  gallery  :  Use  was  in  the  place  of  honor,  in  the 
middle  of  the  front  row,  with  Laura.  This  was  a  great 
day  for  Use,  for  the  splendor  of  the  highest  academical 
dignity  rested  upon  her  husband' s  head.  Felix  Werner 
had  been  chosen  Rector  Magnificus,  and  was  now 
about  to  enter  upon  his  office. 

The  instructors  of  the  University  walked  in  a  long 
procession  into  the  hall ;  before  them  went  the  beadles 
in  their  antique  dress  of  office,  carrying  great  maces 
in  their  hands  ;  the  gentlemen  themselves  walked  in 
the  order  of  their  several  faculties.  Theology  began 
the  procession,  and  Philosophy  closed  it ;  the  latter, 
both  from  the  number  and  importance  of  its  members, 
was  the  strongest  division  ;  altogether  they  formed  a 
stately  company  ;  by  the  side  of  some  nonentities  went 
men  of  the  highest  repute,  of  whom  the  country  might 
well  be  proud  ;  and  it  was  a  pleasure  to  every  one  to 
see  so  much  learning  assembled.  These  great  minds, 
however,  did  not  make  a  very  dignified  appearance  in 


2  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

the  procession:  they  kept  their  ranks  badly;  many 
looked  as  if  they  were  thinking  more  of  their  books 
than  of  the  impression  made  by  their  appearance  on 
the  public;  one  had  come  behind  time  —  it  was 
Raschke — he  entered  carelessly,  running  behind  the 
tutors  and  nodding  familiarly  to  his  acquaintances. 
The  procession  was  received  by  the  Academical  Choir 
with  a  Latin  song,  solemn,  but  unintelligible.  The 
Professors  ranged  themselves  on  their  seats;  the  ex.- 
Rector  mounted  the  platform,  which  was  decorated 
with  flowers;  he  first  made  a  learned  speech  upon  the 
benefits  which  medical  science  had  long  ago  derived 
from  the  wandering  tribes  of  Arabia,  and  then  read  a 
report  of  the  academical  events  of  the  last  year.  The 
discourse  was  fine;  the  proceedings  were  imposing;  the 
distinguished  guests  from  the  city  and  government  sat 
immovable;  the  Professors  listened  attentively,  the 
students  rattled  only  a  little  at  the  door;  and  if  at 
times  from  the  high  ceiling  of  the  great  hall  the  spirit 
of  weariness  waved  its  great  bat-wings  before  the  eyes 
of  the  audience,  as  is  inevitable  at  academical  cere- 
monies,  Use  to-day  did  not  remark  it.  When  the 
Rector  had  ended  his  discourse,  with  a  graceful  wave 
of  his  hand  and  some  complimentary  words,  he  in- 
vited his  successor  to  join  him  on  the  platform.  Felix 
did  so.  The  Rector  took  off  his  cap  and  the  golden 
chain  and  mantle,  which  looked  like  an  old  regal  man- 
tle, and  put  them  all  upon  his  successor,  with  warm 
wishes  and  expressions  of  esteem.  Laura  whispered 
to  her  neighbor:  "  If  our  Professor  had  a  sword  at  his 
side  he  would  look  like  one  of  the  Electors  in  the 
pictures  up  there."  Use  assented  joyfully;  it  was  pre- 
cisely what  she  thought.  Now  Werner  came  forward 
with  his  scarlet  mantle  and  chain.  The  beadles  crossed 


THE    BUTTER    MACHINE.  3 

their  maces  on  both  sides  of  the  chair,  and  the  new 
Rector  majestically  began  an  address  to  the  Professors 
and  students,  in  which  he  begged  for  their  good  will 
and  promised  good  government.  Again  the  Academ- 
ical Choir  began  a  Latin  song  of  triumph,  and  the 
procession  of  University  instructors  retired  into  the 
neighboring  room,  where  the  Professors  surrounded 
their  Rector,  shaking  hands  with  him,  and  the  beadles 
packed  the  scarlet  mantle  and  chain  in  a  chest,  to  be 
preserved  for  future  occasions.  Use,  too,  received  the 
congratulations  of  the  ladies,  who  placed  themselves 
on  the  gallery  steps  and  greeted  her  gaily  as  "Mag- 
nifica." 

As  soon  as  she  got  home,  Use  threw  her  arms  round 
her  husband's  neck,  and  told  him  how  stately  he  looked 
in  his  grand  attire.  "  What  the  gipsy  said,"  she  ex- 
claimed, "has  been  fulfilled  to-day:  the  man  whom 
I  love  has  worn  a  prince's  dress;  I  greet  you,  my 
Prince  and  Lord." 

It  was  on  the  afternoon  of  this  great  day  that  the 
visit  of  the  Hereditary  Prince  was  announced.  Use 
once  more  looked  into  every  corner  of  her  bright 
dwelling,  that  she  might  experience  no  disgrace  as 
mistress  of  the  house,  and  ma"de  her  husband  instruct 
her  as  to  the  right  form  of  speaking  to  an  illustrious 
prince;  "  In  order  that  I  may  know  what  to  say  if  he 
addresses  me.  I  am  anxious,  Felix,  'for  it  is  a  great 
thing  to  meet  the  future  Sovereign  of  one's  country." 

As  the  clock  struck,  the  carriage  drove  up.  Ga- 
briel, in  his  best  coat,  conducted  the  gentlemen  to  the 
Rector's  room.  Meanwhile  Use  walked  up  and  down, 
burning  with  expectation.  It  was  not  long  before  her 
door  was  opened,  and  two  gentlemen  entered,  intro- 
duced by  her  husband.  The  Prince  was  of  a  slight 


4  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

figure,  medium  height,  black  hair,  with  small  face  and 
features;  over  the  delicate  lips  there  was  a  dark  line, 
which  showed  the  beginning  of  a  mustache;  his  car- 
riage was  awkward  and  embarrassed,  and  he  gave  one 
the  impression  of  being  a  delicate  and  weak  man.  He 
seemed  confused  when  he  approached  Use,  and  he 
told  her,  in  so  low  a  tone  that  she  could  scarcely  make 
out  his  words,  how  much  he  rejoiced  in  meeting  with 
a  countrywoman. 

His  shy  manner  gave  Use  courage;  she  was  touched 
by  the  countenance  of  her  young  Prince,  and  accosted 
him:  "We  in  our  country  cling  to  our  home,  and  as  I 
now  have  the  opportunity  of  making  your  Highness's 
acquaintance,  I  venture  to  say  that  I  remember  your 
Highness.  You  were  quite  a  young  gentleman,  and  I 
was  only  a  half-grown  girl  when  I  first  saw  you  in  your 
father's  capital.  Your  Highness  was  sitting  on  a  very 
small  horse;  whilst  my  father  and  I  made  our  obeis- 
ances, the  horse  stood  still  and  would  not  go  on.  You 
looked  kindly  at  me,  just  as  you  do  now.  I  had  a 
couple  of  roses  in  my  hand,  and,  as  you  were  our  young 
Prince,  I  offered  them  to  you.  But  you  shook  your 
head  and  could  not  take  them,  as  you  had  to  hold  the 
bridle,  and  I  believe  you  were  a  little  timid  about  your 
horse:  but  the  horse  poked  its  head  into  the  flowers. 
Then  a  tall  man  in  uniform  rode  up  and  held  the 
horse,  and  we  retreated.  You  see  I  remember  it  all, 
for  it  was  an  important  thing  for  a  country  girl  to  re- 
member.— But  will  your  Highness  do  me  the  honor 
to  take  a  seat?" 

The  Prince's  attendant,  the  Chamberlain  von  Wei- 
degg,  addressed  Use  courteously;  he  was  a  man  of 
middle  age,  tall,  of  good  address,  and  not  bad  looking; 
he  took  the  lead  in  the  conversation,  and  spoke  pleas- 


THE    BUTTER    MACHINE.  5 

antly  of  the  hills  and  woods  of  their  common  country; 
it  was  an  agreeable  interchange  of  words  on  every  day 
subjects.  The  Prince  was  silent,  played  with  his  eye- 
glass, and  looked  cautiously  and  wonderingly  at  the 
stately  wife  of  the  Professor,  who  was  sitting  opposite 
him.  At  last  the  Chamberlain  inquired  at  what  hour 
Use  received  strangers,  and  expressed  a  wish  that  the 
Prince  and  he  might  be  allowed  occasionally  to  visit 
her.  "  On  account  of  the  few  persons  with  whom  my 
illustrious  Prince  can  associate  in  this  city,  a  house 'in 
which  he  may  expect  not  to  be  treated  as  a  stranger 
will  be  particularly  acceptable  to  him."  This  was  very 
pleasant  and  courteous,  and  when  the  Professor  had 
accompanied  the  strangers  to  the  entrance,  he  said  to 
his  wife,  "They  appear  to  be  very  amiable." 

"  I  had  imagined  my  Prince  to  be  quite  different, 
Felix,  bold  and  haughty;  but  he  has  not  even  a  star  on 
his  breast." 

"  It  must  have  been  in  his  pocket,"  said  the  Pro- 
fessor, consolingly. 

"  But  he  looks  like  a  good  youth,"  concluded  Use, 
"  and,  as  he  is  my  countryman,  he  shall  be  well  treated." 
'  "That  is  right,"  replied  the  Professor,  laughing. 

In  a  short  time  the  Hereditary  Prince  and  his 
Chamberlain  found  out  that  this  good  treatment  was 
very  pleasant.  The  Chamberlain  proved  himself  an 
agreeable  man;  he  had  travelled  much,  had  experience 
of  all  sorts,  had  seen  much,  and  read  a  good  deal  on 
various  subjects;  he  collected  autographs,  had  no  vices 
and  no  bad  habits.  During  a  long  sojourn  in  Rome  he 
had  been  intimate  with  old  acquaintances  of  the  Pro- 
fessor, he  had  wandered  through  the  ruins  of  Pompeii, 
and  showed  a  warm  interest  in  the  details  of  old  Ro- 
man houses.  Besides  this  he  understood  how  to  listen 


6  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

and  how  to  ask  questions,  and  could,  with  decorum, 
tell  doubtful  anecdotes  of  people  of  note.  His  con- 
versation was  agreeable  to  the  Professor,  he  %vas  wel- 
come at  Use's  tea-table,  and  liked  by  her  guests.  It 
seemed  also  to  give  him  pleasure  to  converse  with  the 
learned  men;  he  visited  the  Doctor  and  examined  his 
old  wood-cuts;  he  treated  Professor  Raschke  with  con- 
siderate politeness,  and,  with  his  Prince,  accompanied 
the  Philosopher  on  a  fine  winter  evening  to  his  distant 
dwelling,  and  during  the  walk  Raschke  imparted  to 
them  very  interesting  observations  upon  plants. 

It  cannot  be  said  that  the  Hereditary  Prince  was 
much  at  home  among  the  Professors;  he  listened  with 
toleration  to  their  conversation,  as  became  an  academ- 
ical student,  and  said  the  right  thing  at  the  right  time; 
but  he  showed  by  an  impatient  jerk  of  his  lorgnette 
that  he  would  much  have  preferred  any  other  kind  of 
entertainment. 

Use  was  not  pleased  when  he  fidgeted  with  his 
glass,  for  she  wished  that  he  should  conduct  himself 
with  dignity  among  other  men,  and  she  seemed  to  feel 
as  if  the  gentlemen  would  reproach  her  because  the 
Prince  took  no  real  interest  in  serious  subjects.  As 
mistress  of  the  house,  therefore,  she  was  very  atten- 
tive to  him;  she  ventured  to  advise  him  not  to  drink 
his  tea  too  strong,  and  prepared  it  for  him  herself. 
The  Prince  was  pleased  with  this,  and  enjoyed  sitting 
next  to  her  or  watching  her  perform  her  duties  at  the 
table  as  hostess.  It  was  only  with  her  that  he  ever 
lost  his  cautious  reserve;  he  talked  to  her  of  the  re- 
markable things  he  had  seen  in  the  town,  and  when 
he  had  nothing  to  say,  he  assisted  her  in  her  duties;  he 
placed  the  cream  jug  before  her,  and  always  passed  the 
sugar-bowl  when  he  thought  that  Use  wanted  it. 


THE    BUTTER    MACHINE.  7 

One  evening  as  the  Prince  was  sitting  silently 
by  Use's  side,  and  the  gentlemen  present  were  en- 
gaged in  passing  indignant  judgment  on  the  arbitrary 
management  of  the  Vatican  Library,  Use  proposed  to 
him  to  look  over  a  work  that  her  husband  had  bought, 
containing  good  portraits  of  famous  men  of  learning 
and  artists.  They  went  to  examine  it  by  a  lamp  in 
the  next  room,  and  the  Prince  looked  at  the  portraits 
with  languid  interest.  "Of  many  of  them  I  only  know," 
began  Use,  "  what  my  husband  has  told  me;  I  have 
not  read  their  books,  and  of  the  beautiful  things  they 
have  painted  and  composed,  I  know  but  little." 

<4  That  is  just  my  case,"  replied  the  Prince,  hon- 
estly, "  it  is  only  about  the  musicians  that  I  know  any- 
thing." 

"  Yet  it  is  a  pleasure  to  look  at  their  portraits," 
continued  Use;  "  one  judges  from  them  what  the  char- 
acter and  merits  of  these  men  may  have  been,  and 
when  one  asks  any  person  who  knows  more,  one  finds 
one's  views  sometimes  confirmed  and  sometimes  erro- 
neous. That  seems  to  make  us  like  the  men  and  be- 
come intimate  with  them,  and  we  seek  for  oppor- 
tunities of  making  acquaintance  with  their  works  of 
art  and  learning.  I  long  to  know  more  about  them. 
But  when  one  has  read  about  a  great  man,  and  after  a 
time  sees  his  picture,  then  his  face  appears  like  that 
of  a  dear  friend." 

"Do  you  like  to  read?"  asked  the  Prince,  look- 
ing up. 

"  I  am  beginning  to  like  it,"  replied  Use;  "  but  un- 
learned heads  do  not  take  in  serious  things  at  once, 
especially  when  they  excite  earnest  thoughts." 

"  I  do  not  like  to  read,"  replied  the  Prince;  "  at 
least  in  the  way  in  which  it  is  pressed  upon  me.  It  is 


8  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

tedious  to  me,  for  I  have  never  learned  anything 
thoroughly,  and  I  know  nothing  well." 

He  said  this  with  bitterness.  Use  was  shocked  at 
the  confession.  "Your  Highness  will  find  that  that 
will  change  now, — you  will  have  such  excellent  oppor- 
tunities here." 

"  Yes,"  replied  the  Prince,  "from  morning  till  eve- 
ning, and  one  thing  after  another.  I  am  always  glad 
when  the  lectures  are  over." 

Use  regarded  the  young  Prince  sympathizingly. 
"  That  is  very  unfortunate  for  your  Highness.  Is 
there  nothing  that  you  would  care  to  know  or  possess? 
no  collection  of  minerals  or  butterflies,  or  of  rare  books 
or  engravings,  like  the  Doctor  over  there  has?  In  this 
way  one  can  find  enjoyment  the  whole  year,  and  while 
collecting  these  valuable  things  one  learns  a  great 
deal." 

"  If  I  wish  to  have  anything  of  the  kind  I  can  have 
any  quantity  of  them  collected,"  replied  the  Prince; 
"  but  to  what  end?  I  have  already  so  many  things 
about  me.  If  I  were  to  express  a  wish  to  collect  min- 
erals, everybody  about  me  would  be  in  a  state  of  ex- 
citement, and  it  would  either  be  forbidden  or  I  should 
have  a  whole  collection  brought  into  the  house." 

"That  indeed  is  of  no  use,"  said  Use,  pityingly; 
"  the  only  pleasure  is  in  looking  after  each  individual 
thing  one's  self;  no  man  can  know  all,  but  everyone 
should  have  something  which  he  understands  thorough- 
ly. If  I  may  venture  to  compare  my  insignificant  life 
with  the  important  one  that  awaits  your  Highness,  I 
should  like  to  tell  you  my  own  experience.  When  my 
good  mother  was  laid  on  her  deathbed  I  was  quite  a 
young  girl,  but  I  wished  to  take  her  place  in  the  house- 
hold. I  found,  however,  that  I  was  quite  at  a  loss 


THE    BUTTER    MACHINE.  9 

what  to  do.  I  did  not  even  know  whether  the  people 
were  industrious  or  lazy;  I  did  not  understand  how  to 
do  anything,  and  if  it  was  done  badly  I  could  not  teach 
them  better.  One  evening  I  sat  discouraged  and  angry 
with  myself,  and  I  believe  I  wept.  Then  my  good 
father  said,  '  You  should  not  undertake  so  much  at 
once,  you  should  first  learn  some  one  thing  accurate- 
ly.' Then  he  took  me  into  the  dairy.  Does  your 
Highness  know  what  that  is." 

"  Not  exactly,"  replied  the  Prince. 

She  then  explained  to  him  the  whole  day's  work 
of  the  dairy.  "This  was  the  result:  I  took  it  in  hand 
myself,  learned  the  work  thoroughly,  and  thus  was 
able  to  judge  the  maids.  I  learned  everything  about 
the  cows  accurately,  and  which  was  the  best  kind  for 
us,  and  why;  for  every  species  does  not  thrive  every 
where.  I  soon  became  ambitious  of  making  good 
butter  and  cheese.  I  obtained  information  from  those 
who  were  skilled  in  it,  and  sometimes  read  a  book 
about  it.  Then  I  conferred  with  my  father  about  im- 
provements, and  just  when  I  came  away  we  were 
thinking  of  getting  a  new  machine  instead  of  our  large 
wooden  churn.  It  is  now  set  up;  it  is  said  to  be  very 
good,  and  to  make  good  butter;  but  I  have  not  seen 
it.  Does  your  Highness  know  anything  about  churn- 
ing?" 

"  No,"  replied  the  Prince. 

Use  described  the  process  to  him  as  far  as  she 
could,  and  continued:  "When  my  father  made  up  his 
books  at  midsummer,  it  was  my  pride  that  the  dairy 
produce  should  every  year  increase  in  amount;  but  I 
was  provoked  that  my  father  laughed  at  my  small 
profits;  he  valued  the  cows  for  other  reasons."  Use 
gave  a  slight  explanation  on  this  point,  and  then  con- 


IO  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

tinued:  "  From  this  time,  your  Highness,  I  felt  quite 
at  home  in  the  world.  Now,  if  I  go  to  a  factory,  I  find 
myself  looking  upon  it  as  another  kind  of  dairy,  and 
when  state  revenues  and  government  expenditure  are 
talked  of,  I  compare  them  with  our  house  and  farming 
accounts.  But  it  is  very  silly  in  me  to  talk  to  your 
Highness  about  butter  and  cheese." 

The  Prince  looked  frankly  into  her  eyes.  "  Ah 
kind  lady,"  he  said,  "yours  has  been  a  happy  life;  I 
have  never  been  so  fortunate  as  to  be  able  to  enjoy 
quietly  what  I  like.  From  morning  to  evening  I  have 
been  in  leading-strings,  and  passed  on  from  one  person 
to  another.  When,  as  a  child,  I  went  into  the  garden, 
the  governess  or  tutor  was  always  there,  and  when  I 
ran  or  jumped  about  on  the  grass,  I  was  to  do  it  in  a 
becoming  manner;  once,  when  I  wished  to  turn  a 
somersault,  like  other  boys,  it  excited  the  utmost  dis- 
may, on  account  of  its  indecorum.  Every  moment  it 
was  said,  '  that  was  not  befitting  a  Prince,'  or,  '  this  is 
not  the  proper  time.'  When  I  came  out  of  my  room  I 
was  stared  at  by  strangers,  and  had  always  to  take  no- 
tice of  them  and  bow  to  them;  I  was  told  with  whom 
I  was  or  was  not  to  shake  hands,  and  who  I  was  or 
was  not  to  accost.  Every  day  passed  thus.  One  was 
always  to  use  empty  forms  of  speech  in  three  lan- 
guages, and  every  day  the  uppermost  thought  was, 
whether  one  had  conducted  one's  self  well.  Once  I 
and  my  sister  wished  to  lay  out  a  little  garden;  im- 
mediately the  head  gardener  was  called  to  dig  and 
plant  for  us,  thus  all  our  pleasure  was  spoilt.  Then 
we  wished  to  act  a  little  play,  and  had  thought  of  a 
nice  piece;  again  we  were  told  that  it  was  foolish  trash, 
and  that  we  must  learn  a  play  by  heart,  with  French 
modes  of  speech,  in  which  the  children  always  ex- 


THE    BUTTER    MACHINE.  II 

claimed  how  dearly  they  loved  papa  and  mamma, 
whilst  we  had  no  mother.  In  this  training  for  mere 
show  my  childhood  passed.  I  assure  you  I  know 
nothing  thoroughly,  and  though  I  remain  here  at  study 
forever,  I  feel  that  it  can  do  me  no  good,  and  I  shall 
enter  the  world  a  very  useless  being." 

"  Ah,  that  is  sad,"  exclaimed  Use,  with  deep  sym- 
pathy; "but  I  entreat  of  your  Highness  not  to  lose 
courage.  It  is  impossible  that  the  life  here,  among  so 
many  men  of  the  highest  capacity  and  worth,  should 
not  be  beneficial  to  you." 

The  Prince  shook  his  head. 

"  Think  what  a  future  lies  before  your  Highness," 
continued  Use.  "  Ah,  you  have  every  reason  to  be 
brave  and  confident.  Your  office  is  the  highest  on 
earth.  We  others  work,  and  are  happy  if.  we  can  only 
preserve  one  human  being  from  evil;  but  you  will  have 
the  welfare  and  lives  of  thousands  in  your  power. 
What  you  do  for  schools  and  learning  through  the  se- 
lection of  good  or  bad  teachers,  and  your  decisions  as 
to  peace  or  war,  may  ruin  or  make  the  whole  country 
happy.  When  I  think  of  this  exalted  vocation,  I  feel 
a  deep  respect  for  you,  and  I  would  implore  you  on 
my  knees  to  do  your  utmost  to  make  yourself  a  worthy 
prince.  Therefore,  the  best  advice  for  you  is,  that 
you  should  be  willing  to  learn  even  what  is  wearisome 
to  you.  For  the  rest,  have  confidence  in  the  future: 
you  will  yet  have  pleasure  in  life,  and  a  feeling  of 
worth  and  capacity." 

The  Prince  was  silent;  for  every  allusion  to  his 
future  position  as  Sovereign  was  forbidden  at  Court, 
and  even  less  than  others  was  the  heir  to  the  throne 
allowed  to  indulge  in  such  a  thought  or  cherish  such 
a  hope. 


12  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

"I  hear  lectures  enough,"  said  the  Prince,  at  last; 
"but  I  wish  that  I  might  have  been  brought  up  by  a 
country  gentleman,  as  you  have  been." 

They  returned  to  th*e  gentlemen,  and  the  Prince 
paid  much  attention  to  their  conversation  during  the 
rest  of  the  evening.  When  he  went  away,  Use  said 
to  her  husband:  "There  is  one  who  has  what  would 
make  thousands  happy,  yet  he  is  unhappy,  for  they 
have  bound  up  his  honest  heart  in  leather  like  an  au- 
tomaton. Oh,  be  kind  to  him,  Felix;  open  your  soul 
to  him,  that  he  may  gain  some  of  your  confidence  and 
power." 

Her  husband  kissed  her,  and  said,  "That  will  be 
easier  for  you  to  do  than  for  me.  But  he  has  himself 
suggested  the  right  thing;  three  years  with  your  father 
would  be  the  best  training  for  him  and  his  country." 

At  breakfast  the  following  morning  the  Chamber- 
lain took  the  newspapers  from  the  hand  of  the  lackey; 
the  Prince  was  sitting  silently  at  table,  playing  with  a 
tea-spoon,  and  watching  a  fly  which  was  disrespect- 
fully trying  to  make  its  way  from  the  edge  of  the 
cream-jug  into  the  princely  cream.  As  the  written 
instructions  imposed  upon  the  Chamberlain  the  duty 
of  guarding  the  Prince  from  all  dangerous  reading — 
by  that  was  meant  all  discontented  newspapers  and 
improper  novels — he  thought  it  best  to  give  him  the 
inoffensive  "Daily  Gazette,"  whilst  he  himself  took 
up  a  loyal  paper,  in  order  to  examine  the  court  news 
and  accounts  of  promotions  and  the  bestowal  of  deco- 
rations. He  had  long  finished  his  reading,  but  the 
Prince  was  still  engaged  with  his  shellfish  and  oysters. 
The  Chamberlain  observed  with  regret  how  little  in- 
terest his  young  Highness  took  in  the  course  of  the 
world.  An  acquaintance  of  the  Chamberlain  had 


THE    BUTTER    MACHINE.  13 

been  promoted  to  be  master  of  the  horse,  another 
announced  his  betrothal,  and  he  did  not  fail  to  draw 
the  attention  of  the  Prince  to  this  news;  but  the  latter 
only  smiled  in  his  absent-minded  way. 

The  Chamberlain  then  entered  upon  his  next  duty: 
he  reflected  upon  the  programme  of  the  day.  As  it 
was  incumbent  upon  him  to  make  the  Prince  ac- 
quainted with  the  novelties  in  art  and  literature  in  the 
city,  he  waited  impatiently  till  the  Prince  had  done 
with  the  "Daily  Gazette,"  in  order  to  obtain  informa- 
tion from  it  on  these  points.  At  last  the  Prince  inter- 
rupted his  cogitations  by  saying  to  him,  "Mention  is 
made  here  of  a  permanent  exhibition  of  agricultural 
implements;  what  is  there  to  see  in  such  exhibitions?" 

The  Chamberlain  tried  to  explain,  and  was  de- 
lighted to  make  a  proposal  to  visit  this  exhibition. 
The  Prince  expressed  his  assent  by  a  slight  nod,  looked 
at  his  watch,  and  went  up  to  his  room  to  go  through 
his  three  hours'  morning  course:  one  for  the  science 
of  politics,  one  for  mythology  and  aesthetics,  and  one 
for  tactics  and  strategy;  then  he  accompanied  his  at- 
tendant to  the  exhibition. 

Even  the  Chamberlain  was  bored  as  he  followed 
his  young  master  through  the  great  rooms,  in  which 
stood  countless  inexplicable  machines.  The  agent  of 
the  manufacturers  began  his  explanations;  the  Cham- 
berlain asked  such  questions  as  would  show  a  fitting 
love  of  knowledge;  the  Prince  went  patiently  from  one 
unintelligible  object  to  another,  and  heard  something 
of  plows,  scarifiers  and  rollers.  At  last,  at  the  great 
threshing-machine,  the  expounder  had  to  call  a  work- 
man to  bring  a  step-ladder,  by  ascending  which  they 
would  be  enabled  to  admire  the  internal  mechanism. 
The  Prince  left  this  labor  to  the  Chamberlain;  played 


14  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

meanwhile  with  his  lorgnette,  and  asked  the  agent,  in 
the  low  tone  in  which  he  was  wont  to  speak: 
"Have  you  any  butter-machines?" 
"Yes,"  was  the  reply,  "several  different  kinds.' 
The  Prince  then  quietly  turned  his  attention  to  the 
great  threshing-machine,  and  learnt  to  value  the  beau- 
tiful arrangement  by  which  it  threw  out  the  straw  into 
an  invisible  hayloft.  At  last  they  came  to  the  row  of 
machines  on  which  he  had  set  his  heart — the  modern 
successors  of  the  old  time-honored  churn.  There 
they  stood  beside  each  other — the  little  hand-churn, 
by  which,  if  the  assertion  of  the  guide  was  to  be 
trusted,  a  housewife  could  make  her  butter  in  an  in- 
credibly short  time;  and  the  great  machine,  which 
could  work  sufficient  to  supply  the  needs  of  the  largest 
dairy.  It  was  described  to  the  Prince  how  the  cream, 
when  poured  in,  was  put  in  quick  circular  motion, 
and  how,  as  a  result  o'f  this,  the  butter  was  separated 
from  the  milk.  He  had  already  heard  this  much 
more  agreeably  told;  but  it  gave  him  pleasure  to  see 
the  advantages  of  the  modern  invention,  and  he  be- 
came thoroughly  convinced  of  its  superiority.  To  the 
astonishment  of  his  attendant  he  asked  intelligent 
questions,  and  took  hold  of  the  crooked  handle,  en- 
deavoring to  turn  it  a  little,  but  withdrew  his  hand 
with  an  embarrassed  smile.  At  last  he  inquired  about 
the  price.  The  Chamberlain  had  rejoiced  at  the  laud- 
able desire  of  knowledge  which  his  young  master  had 
shown,  but  was  much  humiliated  when  the  Prince 
turned  to  him  and  said,  in  French,  "What  do  you 
think?  I  have  a  mind  to  buy  this  little  machine." 
"For  the  sake  of  turning  the  handle,"  thought  the 
Chamberlain,  with  an  inward  shrug  of  the  should- 
ers. 


THE    BUTTER    MACHINE.  15 

"How  is  it  that  your  Highness  takes  an  especial 
interest  in  this?" 

"It  pleases  me,"  replied  the  Prince,  "and  one 
ought  to  buy  something  of  the  man." 

The  pretty  machine  was  bought,  carried  to  the 
Prince's  apartments,  and  placed  in  his  study.  Towards 
evening,  whilst  the  Prince  was  taking  his  music  les- 
sons, the  machine  had  to  appear  in  the  report  which 
the  Chamberlain  prepared  for  the  reigning  Prince. 
The  writer  extolled  the  interest  which  his  Prince  had 
shown  in  the  useful  implements  of  German  agriculture. 
But  seldom  had  it  been  so  difficult  to  the  poor  Cham- 
berlain to  perform  the  duty  of  a  true  courtier,  whom 
it  behooves  to  suppress  his  own  personal  feelings 
and  to  gloss  over  agreeably  what  is  annoying;  for, 
in  truth,  he  felt  deep  humiliation  at  the  silly  tri- 
fling of  his  Prince.  But  at  Court  one  does  not  thor- 
oughly learn  all  the  intricacies  of  a  princely  mind, 
however  much  one  may  study  them.  Even  to  the  wisest 
chamberlain  there  remain  certain  inscrutable  depths. 

The  Hereditary  Prince  covered  the  butter-machine 
with  a  silk  cloth,  and  when  he  was  alone,  approached 
it  carefully,  turned  the  handle,  and  examined  the 
mechanism. 

Some  days  after,  when  the  valet  had  undressed 
the  Prince,  placed  his  slippers  for  him,  and  made  his 
bow  for  the  night,  the  Prince,  contrary  to  custom,  re- 
mained sitting  in  his  chair,  and  stopped  the  departure 
of  the  servant  by  thus  accosting  him:  "Kruger,  you 
must  do  me  a  favor." 

"What  are  your  Highness's  commands?" 

"Obtain  for  me  to-morrow  morning  early,  without 
any  one  seeing  you,  a  large  jug  of  milk;  but  do  not  put 
the  milk  in  the  account." 


1 6  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

"Does  your  Highness  wish  it  boiled  or  not  boiled?" 

This  was  a  difficult  question.  The  Prince  twirled 
his  moustache  silently  and  looked  helplessly  at  Kriiger. 

"I  hardly  know,"  he  began  at  last.  "  I  should  like 
to  try  churning  a  little." 

Kriiger  was  sharp  enough  to  understand  that  this 
wish  was  connected  with  the  new  machine,  arid,  long 
accustomed  not  to  be  astonished  at  anything  in  peo- 
ple of  rank,  he  replied:  "Then  the  machine  must  first 
be  scalded,  otherwise  the  butter  will  taste  bad;  and, 
besides,  I  must  order  the  cream;  so  your  Highness 
must  wait  patiently  for  a  day." 

"I  leave  everything  to  you,"  said  the  Prince,  well 
pleased;  "take  the  machine,  and  be  careful  that  no 
one  hears  anything  about  it." 

When  Kriiger,  two  days  after,  entered  the  Prince's 
room,  early  in  the  morning,  he  found  his  young  mas- 
ter already  dressed.  Proud  of  his  confidential  posi- 
tion, he  informed  him,  "  The  Chamberlain  is  still 
asleep,  and  all  is  ready." 

The  Prince  hastened  on  tip-toes  into  the  room. 
A  large  can  of  cream  was  poured  into  the  machine; 
full  of  expectation,  the  Prince  seated  himself  by  the 
table  and  said;  "  I  will  turn  it  myself."  He  began  to 
turn  while  Kruger  looked  on. 

"But  it  must  be  done  with  regularity,  your  High- 
ness," admonished  Kruger. 

The  Prince  could  not  resist  opening  the  cover  and 
looking  in.  "It  will  not  come,  Kruger,"  he  said,  de- 
spondingly. 

"Cheer  up,  your  Highness,"  said  Kruger,  "and 
graciously  permit  me  to  go  on  with  the  turning." 

After  that  Kruger  turned  while  the  Prince  looked 
on. 


THE    BUTTER    MACHINE.  17 

"  It  comes,"  cried  the  Prince,  delighted,  as  he 
looked  in. 

"Yes,  it's  made,"  replied  Kriiger.  "But  now  comes 
other  work.  The  butter  must  be  taken  out  and  washed, 
if  it  please  your  Highness?" 

"No,"  said  the  Prince,  doubtfully,  "that  will  never 
do.  But  the  machine  is  good;  bring  me  a  spoon  and 
some  white  bread,  I  will  fish  out  what  I  can;  one  must 
learn  to  help  one's  self." 

The  Prince  plunged  his  spoon  into  the  mess,  took 
out  some  of  the  half-made  butter,  and  spread  it  on 
his  white  bread  with  a  feeling  of  satisfaction  that  was 
quite  new  to  him.  "It  tastes  a  little  sour,  Krxiger," 
he  said. 

"Of  course,"  replied  Kriiger;  "the  butter-milk  is 
still  in  it." 

"It  does  not  matter,"  said  the  Prince,  consoling 
himself.  "  Kriiger,  I  did  not  think  there  was  so  much 
to  be  attended  to  in  churning." 

'Yes,  all  things  are   difficult  in    the  beginning," 
replied  Kriiger,  cheerfully. 

"It  is  all  right,"  concluded  the  Prince,  graciously; 
"take  the  machine  out,  and  clean  it  properly." 

After  that  the  churn  stood  peacefully  under  the 
silk  cloth;  the  Prince  in  his  lonely  hours,  would  some- 
times stand  before  it,  and  revolve  in  his  mind  how  he 
could  deliver  it  into  the  hands  of  the  person  for  whom 
he  had  secretly  intended  it. 

The  stars  themselves  appeared  to  favor  him;  for 
the  revolving  earth  had  rolled  into  the  last  sign  of  the 
zodiac,  which  guides  the  souls  of  our  people  with 
magic  power  to  the  most  charming  festival  of  the  year. 
Christmas  was  near,  and  the  ladies  of  the  street  near 
the  Park  moved  about  in  secret  activity.  Intercourse 


1 8  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

with  intimate  acquaintances  was  interrupted,  books 
that  had  been  begun  were  laid  aside,  theatres  and 
concert-rooms  were  empty;  the  tones  of  the  piano-forte 
and  of  new  bravuras  rarely  sounded  to  the  rattling 
of  carriage-wheels  in  the  street;  inward  struggles  were 
hushed,  and  bad  neighbors  little  thought  of.  From 
morning  to  evening,  little  fingers  were  occupied  with 
beads,  wools,  silk,  paint-brush  and  palette;  the  day 
lengthened  into  eight-and-forty  hours;  even  during  the 
minutes  of  unquiet  morning  slumber,  obliging  crickets 
and  other  invisible  spirits  worked  in  the  pay  of  the 
ladies.  The  nearer  the  festival  approached,  the  more 
numerous  were  the  secrets:  in  every  closet  were  con- 
cealed things  which  no  one  was  to  see;  from  all  sides, 
packages  were  brought  into  the  house,  that  were 
forbidden  to  be  touched.  But  whilst  the  other  in- 
mates of  the  house  secretly  slipped  past  one  another, 
the  lady  of  the  house  was  the  quiet  ruler  in  the  invisi- 
ble realm  of  presents,  and  the  confidant  and  clever 
adviser  of  all.  She  was  never  weary;  she  thought  and 
arranged  for  every  one;  the  world  had  become  to  her 
like  a  great  cupboard  with  numerous  compartments, 
from  which  she  was  incessantly  fetching  things,  and 
in  which  she  was  always  cautiously  stowing  covered 
packages.  When  on  Christmas  Eve  the  spangled  stars 
shine,  the  wax-lights  drip,  and  the  golden  balls  glim- 
mer and  glisten  on  the  Christmas  tree,  it  is  then  that 
the  fancies  of  the  children  celebrate  their  great  day; 
but  the  poetic  vision  of  the  housewife  and  her  daugh- 
ters, for  months  before,  have  filled  the  room  with  joyful 
splendor. 

If  one  may  regard  the  judgment  of  Mr.  Hummel  as 
valid,  it  is  rarely  that  the  enthusiasm  of  Christmas  week 
is  fully  developed  in  the  men  who  have  the  honor  of 


THE    BUTTER    MACHINE.  ig 

being  the  representatives  of  the  family.  "  Believe  me, 
Gabriel,"  said  Mr.  Hummel,  one  December  evening, 
as  he  was  watching  some  children  who  were  passing 
by  with  toys,  "at  this  time  man  loses  his  importance; 
he  is  nothing  but  a  money-chest,  in  which  the  key  is 
turning  from  morning  till  evening;  the  best  wives  be- 
come barefaced  and  foolish,  all  family  confidence  van- 
ishes, everybody  avoids  everybody  else,  the  order  of 
the  house  is  disturbed,  one's  night's  rest  is  unscrupu- 
lously destroyed;  when  it  is  meal  time,  one's  wife  runs 
to  the  market,  and  when  the  lamps  ought  to  be  ex- 
tinguished, one's  daughter  begins  a  new  piece  of  em- 
broidery. When  at  last  the  long  bother  is  over,  then 
one  must  be  delighted  at  a  pair  of  new  slippers 
which  are  an  inch  too  short,  and  for  which  later  on 
one  has  to  pay  a  long  shoemaker's  bill,  and  to  be 
pleased  with  a  cigar  case  of  beads,  which  is  flat  and 
hard,  like  a  dried  flounder.  Finally,  after  one'  has 
shot  out  golden  sparks  like  a  rocket,  the  ladies  expect 
one  to  show  one's  good  feeling  by  making  them  a 
present.  Now,  I  have  trained  mine  differently." 

"But  I  have  seen  you  yourself,"  rejoined  Gabriel, 
"with  a  package  and  bandbox  under  your  arm." 

"That  is  true,"  replied  Mr.  Hummel,  "a  bandbox 
is  inevitable.  But,  Gabriel,  I  have  given  up  all  worry; 
for  that  was  the  most  humiliating  part  of  the  affair.  I 
go  every  year  to  the  same  milliner  now,  and  say,  'a.  hood 
for  Madame  Hummel;'  and  the  person  says,  'You  shall 
be  served,  Mr.  Hummel;'  and  she  places  the  structure 
ready  made  before  me.  Besides  this,  I  go  every  year  to 
the  same  shop  and  say,  '  I  want  a  dress  for  my  daugh- 
ter Laura,  at  such  and  such  a  price,  more  or  less,' 
and  a  dress  well  worth  its  value  is  placed  before  me. 
In  confidence  I  must  tell  you  I  have  a  suspicion  that 


•20  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

the  women  have  seen  through  my  trick,  and  select 
the  things  themselves  beforehand,  for  now  they  are 
always  very  much  to  their  taste,  whilst  in  former  years 
they  were  often  objected  to.  They  have  the  trouble 
now  of  selecting  the  finery,  and  in  the  evening  they 
practice  all  sorts  of  dissembling  artifices,  unfold  and 
examine  the  goods,  pretend  to  be  astonished,  and 
praise  my  excellent  taste.  This  is  my  only  satisfac- 
tion in  the  whole  childish  amusement.  But  it  is  a 
poor  one,  Gabriel." 

Such  was  the  discordant  strain  in  which  the  mas- 
ter of  the  house  indulged;  but  the  dwellers  in  Park 
Street  cared  little  for  it,  and  like  opinions  will  always 
be  regarded  with  like  indifference.  So  much  sweeter  is 
it  to  care  for  others  than  for  one's  self,  and  so  much 
happier  to  give  pleasure  than  to  receive  it. 

For  Use  also  the  festival  this  year  was  to  be  a  great 
event;  she  collected  like  a  bee,  and  not  only  for  the 
dear  ones  at  home;  in  the  city  also  she  had  nestled 
many  great  and  little  children  in  her  heart,  from  the 
five  young  Raschke's  down  to  the  little  barefooted 
creatures  with  the  soup-pot.  The  sofa-corners  as- 
sumed a  mysterious  appearance  whenever  her  hus- 
band, or  Laura,  or  the  Doctor  entered  unexpectedly. 

When  the  Chamberlain,  some  time  before  the  holi- 
days, deemed  it  becoming  for  his  Prince  to  pay  a  visit 
to  the  new  Rector,  the  gentlemen  found  Use  and 
Laura  busily  at  work,  and  the  parlor  of  the  Rector's 
wife  was  changed  into  a  great  market  stall.  On  a 
long  table  stood  little  Christmas  trees,  and  full  sacks 
were  leaning  against  the  legs  of  the  table;  the  ladies 
were  working  with  yard-measures  and  scissors,  divid- 
ing great  hanks  of  wool,  and  unrolling  pieces  of  linen, 
like  shop-keepers.  When  Use  met  the  gentlemen  and 


THE    BUTTER    MACHINE.  21 

made  excuses  for  the  state  of  her  room,  the  Chamber- 
lain entreated  her  not  to  disturb  herself.  "We  will 
remain  here  only  if  we  are  allowed  to  make  ourselves 
useful."  The  Prince  also  said,  "I  beg  permission  to 
help,  if  you  have  anything  for  me  to  do." 

"That  is  very  kind,"  replied  Use,  "there  is  still 
much  to  be  done  before  evening.  Permit  me,  your 
Highness,  to  give  you  your  work.  Pray  take  the  bag 
of  nuts;  and  you,  my  Lord  Chamberlain,  have  the 
goodness  to  take  the  apples  in  charge;  you,  Felix,  will 
have  the  gingerbread.  I  beg  the  gentlemen  to  make 
little  heaps,  to  each  twenty  nuts,  six  apples,  and  a 
package  of  gingerbread." 

The  gentlemen  went  zealously  to  work.  The  Prince 
counted  the  nuts  conscientiously,  and  was  provoked 
that  they  would  always  roll  together  again,  but  dis- 
covered that  he  could  keep  the  portions  apart  by  means 
of  strips  of  paper  folded  together.  The  gentlemen 
laughed,  and  related  how  once,  in  a  foreign  country, 
they  had  introduced  this  German  Christmas  amuse- 
ment. The  perfume  of  the  apples  and  of  the  fir-trees 
filled  the  room,  and  gave  a  festive  feeling  to  the  souls 
of  all  present. 

"May  we  ask  the  kind  lady  who  are  to  benefit  by 
our  exertions?  "  said  the  Chamberlain;  "  I  hold  here 
an  uncommonly  large  apple,  which  I  hope  may  fall  to 
the  lot  of  one  of  your  favorites.  At  all  events,  we  are 
doing  what  will  give  the  poor  children  pleasure." 

"Finally  it  will,"  replied  Use;  "but  that  is  not  all; 
we  shall  give  this  to  their  mothers,  for  the  greatest 
pleasure  of  a  mother  is  to  give  presents  herself  to  her 
children,  to  adorn  the  Christmas  tree  and  to  work 
what  the  little  ones  need.  This  pleasure  we  shall  not 
deprive  them  of,  and  therefore  we  send  them  the  stuff 


22  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

unmade.  The  Christmas  trees,  too,  they  prefer  biding 
themselves,  each  according  to  their  tastes;  those  you 
see  here  are  only  for  children  who  have  no  mothers. 
These  trees  will  be  adorned  by  us.  Everything  for 
the  festive  evening  will  be  carried  out  of  the  house  to- 
day, so  that  the  people  may  receive  them  in  good  time, 
and  arrange  them  for  themselves." 

The  Prince  looked  at  the  Chamberlain.  "Will 
you  allow  us,"  he  began,  hesitatingly,  "  to  contribute 
something  towards  these  presents." 

"  Very  willingly,"  replied  Use,  joyfully.  "If  your 
Highness  wishes  it,  our  servant  can  look  after  it  im- 
mediately. He  understands  it,  and  is  trustworthy." 

"  I  should  like  to  go  with  him  myself,"  said  the 
Prince.  The  Chamberlain  listened  with  astonishment 
to  this  idea  of  his  young  master;  but,  as  it  was  laud- 
able and  not  against  instructions,  he  only  smiled  re- 
spectfully. Gabriel  was  called.  The  Prince,  much 
pleased,  took  his  hat.  "  What  shall  we  buy?  "  he 
asked  eagerly. 

"We  want  some  little  tapers,"  replied  Use,  "be- 
sides some  playthings; — for  the  boys,  leaden  soldiers; 
and  for  the  girls,  little  kitchen  things;  but  all  must  be 
strong  and  cheap."  Gabriel  followed  the  Prince  out 
of  the  house  with  a  large  basket. 

•  "  You  heard  what  the  lady  ordered,"  said  the 
Prince,  in  the  street,  to  Gabriel.  "  First  the  wax- 
tapers;  you  do  the  selecting  and  I  will  pay.  We  are 
to  buy  them  cheap;  see  that  we  are  not  cheated." 

"  We  need  not  fear  that,  your  Highness,"  replied 
Gabriel;  "  and  if  we  should  pay  a  few  pennies  too 
much,  other  children  will  benefit  by  it." 

At  the  end  of  an  hour  the  Prince  returned.  Gabriel 
had  a  heavily-laden  basket,  while  the  Prince  also  car- 


THE    BUTTER    MACHINE.  23 

ried  under  his  arms  bundles  of  toys  and  large  paper 
bags  full  of  sweetmeats.  When  the  young  gentleman 
entered  thus  loaded,  with  color  in  his  cheeks  and  as 
happy  as  a  child,  he  looked  so  good  and  pleasing  that 
all  were  delighted  with  him.  He  unpacked  his  treas- 
ures before  the  Professor's  wife,  and  emptied  the  con- 
tents of  the  paper  bags  on  the  table. 

His  embarrassment  had  disappeared:  he  played 
with  childish  pleasure  with  the  pretty  things,  showed 
the  others  the  artistic  work  in  the  marchpane  plums, 
begged  of  Laura  to  keep  a  candy  knight-templar  for 
herself,  and  moved  about  and  arranged  everything  so 
gracefully  and  actively  on  the  table  that  all  looked  at 
him  with  admiration  and  joined  in  his  childish  jokes. 
When  the  ladies  began  to  adorn  the  Christmas  trees, 
the  Prince  declared  he  would  help  them.  He  placed 
himself  before  the  saucer  with  white  of  egg,  and  was 
shown  the  way  to  lay  it  upon  the  fruits  and  then  roll 
them  in  gold  and  silver  foil.  Use  arranged  as  a  prize 
for  the  gentleman  who  worked  best  and  did  most,  a 
large  gingerbread  lady  with  a  hooped  petticoat  and 
glass  eyes;  and  a  praiseworthy  contest  arose  among 
the  gentlemen  to  produce  the  best  things.  The  Pro- 
fessor and  the  Chamberlain  knew  how  to  employ  their 
old  skill;  but  the  Prince  as  a  novice  worked  somewhat 
carelessly — there  remained  some  bare  spots,  and  in 
others  the  gold  foil  bulged  out.  He  was  discontented 
with  himself,  but  Use  cheered  him,  saying,  "  But  your 
Highness  must  be  more  sparing  with  the  gold,  other- 
wise we  shall  not  have  enough."  Finally,  the  Cham- 
berlain obtained  the  lady  in  the  hooped  dress,  and  the 
Prince,  as  an  extra  reward  for  his  activity,  a  babe  in 
swaddling-clothes  which  looked  on  the  world  with  two 
glassy  bead  eyes. 


24 


THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 


Out  of  doors  in  the  Christmas  market,  little  chil- 
dren were  standing  round  the  fir-trees  and  Christmas 
shops,  looking  hopefully  and  longingly  at  the  treas- 
ures there.  And  in  Use's  room  the  great  children 
were  sitting  at  the  table,  playful  and  happy.  Here 
there  were  no  cautious  admonitions,  and  the  Prince 
painted  the  outlines  of  a  face  with  the  white  of  egg  on 
the  palm  of  his  hand,  and  gilded  it  with  a  gold-foil. 

When  the  Hereditary  Prince  rose  to  go,  the  Pro- 
fessor asked,  "  May  I  venture  to  inquire  where  your 
Highness  intends  to  pass  Christmas  Eve?  " 

"We  remain  here,"  answered  the  Prince. 

"As  some  remarkable  musical  performances  are  in 
prospect,"  added  the  Chamberlain,  "his  princely  High- 
ness has  denied  himself  the  pleasure  of  having  the 
Prince  with  him  at  this  festival;  we  are,  therefore,  to 
pass  a  quiet  Christmas  here." 

"We  do  not  venture  to  invite  you,"  continued  the 
Professor;  "  but  in  case  your  Highness  should  not 
pass  this  evening  in  other  society,  it  will  be  a  great 
pleasure  if  you  would  do  so  with  us." 

Use  looked  thankfully  at  her  husband,  and  the 
Prince  this  time  did  not  leave  it  to  the  Chamberlain 
to  answer,  but  eagerly  accepted  the  invitation.  As  he 
walked  with  his  attendant  through  the  crowded 
streets,  he  began,  cautiously,  "  But  we  must  contribute 
something  to  the  Christmas  table." 

"  I  had  just  thought  of  that,"  replied  the  Chamber- 
lain; "  but  if  your  Highness  honors  those  worthy  people 
with  your  company  that  evening,  I  am  not  sure  how 
your  Highness's  father  will  approve  of  a  contribution  to 
the  Christmas  tree  from  my  gracious  Prince." 

"  I  do  not  wish  it  to  be  any  of  those  eternal 
brooches  and  ear-rings  from  the  court  jeweler's  cases," 


THE    BUTTER    MACHINE.  25 

cried  the  Prince,  with  unwonted  energy;  "  it  should  be 
some  trifle;  best  of  all,  something  as  a  joke." 

"  That  is  my  view,"  assented  the  Chamberlain; 
"  but  it  is  advisable  to  leave  the  decision  to  his  Grace, 
your  father." 

"Then  I  had  rather  remain  at  home,"  replied  the 
Prince,  bitterly.  "  I  will  not  enter  with  some  stupid 
present  in  my  hand.  Can  it  not  be  managed  that  the 
visit  be  without  any  ceremony,  just  as  the  invitation 
was?  " 

The  Chamberlain  shrugged  his  shoulders.  "  A  few 
days  afterwards  the  whole  city  will  know  that  your 
Highness  has  shown  Professor  Werner  this  unusual 
honor.  Without  doubt  the  occurrence  will  be  re- 
ported to  the  palace  by  persons  who  have  no  business 
to  do  so.  Your  Highness  knows  better  than  I  do  how 
your  father  will  receive  such  an  account,  corn-ing  to  him 
first  from  a  stranger." 

The  Prince's  pleasure  was  spoilt.  "  Write,  then, 
to  my  father,"  he  cried,  angrily;  "  but  represent  the 
invitation  just  as  it  was  given,  and  express  yourself  as 
opposed  to  any  conventional  present  from  the  court: 
it  would  only  wound  this  family." 

The  Chamberlain  rejoiced  in  the  tact  of  his  young 
master,  and  promised  to  write  the  letter  as  he  de- 
sired. This  appeased  the  Prince,  and  after  a  time  he 
began:  "It  has  just  occurred  to  me,  Weidegg,  what  we 
should  give.  As  the  Professor's  wife  comes  from  the 
country,  I  will  present  her  with  the  machine  which  I 
lately  bought,  as  a  case  for  pretty  bonbons  or  some- 
thing of  that  kind,  that  I  will  put  in  it." 

"  Now  he  wishes  to  get  rid  of  the  useless  play- 
thing," thought  the  Chamberlain.  "That  is  impos- 
sible," he  replied,  aloud:  "  Your  Highness  is  not  quite 


26  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

sure  whether  the  lady  would  take  the  joke  as  it  is  in- 
tended. It  would  not  do  to  give  a  present  which  might 
give  rise  to  misinterpretation.  Your  Highness  should 
on  no  account  venture  upon  such  a  thing.  Even  if 
the  amiable  lady  herself  did  not  object,  it  would  be 
much  discussed  in  her  circle.  Your  Highness's  joke 
might  be  easily  considered  as  an  ironical  allusion  to 
country  manners,  which  undoubtedly  become  the  lady 
well,  but  might  here  and  there  occasion  a  slight  smile." 

The  Prince's  heart  froze  within  him;  he  was  furious 
with  the  Chamberlain,  and,  on  the  other  hand,  shocked 
at  the  thought  of  wounding  Use.  The  poetry  of  the 
festival  was  entirely  spoilt  for  him.  He  went  silently 
to  his  apartment. 

The  answer  to  the  Chamberlain's  letter  was  to  the 
effect  that  the  Prince,  in  spite  of  the  apparent  unsuit- 
ability,  would  not  object  to  an  incidental  visit,  and 
that,  if  some  mark  of  attention  was  unavoidable,  it 
might  be  procured  from  a  gardener  or  confectioner. 
The  Chamberlain,  therefore,  bought  a  quantity  of 
flowers  and  sweetmeats,  and  laid  them  before  the 
Prince.  But  he  looked  cold  and  silently  on  the  gay 
bright  colors.  Towards  evening  two  lackeys  carried 
the  things  to  the  Rector  with  a  little  note  from  the 
Chamberlain,  in  which,  in  the  name  of  his  Most  Serene 
Prince,  he  begged  the  accompanying  gift  might  be 
applied  to  the  ornamenting  of  the  Christmas  tree. 
Meanwhile  the  Prince  stood  gloomily  before  his 
butter-machine,  and  quarrelled  bitterly  with  his  prince- 
ly dignity. 

When  at  the  proper  hour  he  entered  Werner's  apart- 
ment, the  Christmas  gifts  had  been  distributed  and  the 
candles  extinguished.  Use  had  done  it  purposely. 
"  It  is  not  necessary  to  let  these  strangers  see  what 


THE    BUTTER    MACHINE.  _          27 

delight  we  take  in  these  presents."  The  Prince  re- 
ceived Use's  thanks  for  the  splendid  adornment  of  her 
table  with  reserve,  and  sat  before  the  tea-kettle  silent 
and  absent-minded.  Use  thought,  "  He  is  sorry  that 
he  has  had  no  glad  Christmas  Eve:  the  poorest  child 
is  merry  with  his  Christmas  tree,  and  he  sits  as  if  shut 
out  from  the  pleasures  of  this  happy  time."  She  made 
a  sign  to  Laura,  and  said  to  the  Prince:  "Would  your 
Highness  like  to  see  our  Christmas  tree?  The  lights 
had  to  be  extinguished  lest  they  should  burn  down, 
but  if  your  Highness  likes  we  will  light  it  up  again  in 
all  its  splendor,  and  it  would  be  very  kind  of  your 
Highness  to  help  us." 

This  was  a  welcome  proposal  to  the  Prince,  and 
he  went  with  the  ladies  into  the  festive  room.  There 
he  offered  to  take  the  staff,  at  the  end  of  which  a 
wax-taper  was  fastened,  in  order  to  reach  the  highest 
lights  of  the  mighty  tree.  Whilst  he  was  thus  busily 
working  at  the  tree  his  heart  became  lighter,  and  he 
looked  with  interest  at  the  presents  which  were  lying 
under  the  tree. 

"  Now  will  your  Highness  have  the  kindness  to  go 
out  of  the  room,"  said  Use,  "  and  when  I  ring  it  will 
signify  to  you  and  Mr.  von  Weidegg  that  your  High- 
ness is  wanted." 

The  Prince  hastened  out;  the  bell  rang.  When  the 
gentlemen  entered  they  found  two  small  tables  laid 
out;  on  them  small  lighted  trees,  and  under  each  a 
large  dish  of  pastry,  made  after  the  fashion  of  their 
own  country.  "  This  is  to  be  a  remembrance  of  our 
home,"  said  Use,  "  and  on  the  trees  are  the  apples  and 
nuts  which  you  have  gilded:  those  with  the  red  spots 
are  your  Highness's  work.  Here  is  a  respectful  gift 
sent  from  the  farm  of  my  dear  father.  I  beg  the  gen- 


28  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

tlemen  to  eat  this  smoked  goose's  breast  with  a  good 
appetite;  we  are  not  a  little  proud  of  this  dish.  But 
here,  my  gracious  Prince,  there  is,  as  a  keepsake  from 
me,  a  small  model  of  our  churn;  for  this  is  at  what  1 
served  my  apprenticeship  as  a  child."  On  the  Prince's 
seat  stood  this  useful  instrument,  made  of  march-pane. 
"On  the  bottom  of  it,  your  Highness,  I  have  written 
my  motto  of  long  ago.  May  the  gentlemen  accept  my 
good  intentions!  " 

She  said  this  so  joyously,  and  offered  her  hand  to 
the  Chamberlain  so  kindly,  that  all  thoughts  of  his  dig- 
nity were  forgotten,  and  he  shook  her  hand  right  hon- 
estly. The  Prince  stood  before  his  machine,  and 
thought:  "  Now  is  the  moment,  or  never."  He  read 
below  the  simple  words,  "  If  a  person  has  devoted 
himself  with  honest  perseverance  to  some  one 
thing,  it  will  be  a  blessing  to  him  throughout  his 
whole  life."  Then,  without  any  thought  of  the 
threatening  consequences  of  his  daring,  he  said:  "May 
I  propose  an  exchange  to  you?  I  have  bought  a  small 
churn;  it  has  a  large  wheel  and  a  small  one  for  turn- 
ing, and  one  can  churn  as  much  as  one  wants  each 
morning.  It  would  be  a  great  pleasure  to  me  if  you 
would  accept  this." 

Use  thanked  him  with  a  bow;  and  the  Prince  re- 
quested that  a  servant  might  at  once  be  sent  to  his 
apartment  for  it.  Whilst  the  Chamberlain  was  still 
reflecting  with  amazement  on  the  strange  coincidence, 
the  piece  of  mechanism  was  brought  into  the  room. 
The  Prince  placed  it  with  his  own  hands  upon  a  corner 
of  the  table,  explained  the  internal  arrangements  to  the 
company,  and  was  much  delighted  when  Use  said  she 
had  confidence  in  the  invention.  He  was  again  the 
joyous  child  of  the  other  day,  gaily  drank  his  glass  of 


THREE    COUNCILS.  2Q 

wine,  and,  with  charming  grace,  proposed  the  health 
of  the  master  and  mistress  of  the  house,  so  that  the 
Chamberlain  scarcely  knew  his  Telemachus  again.  On 
taking  leave,  he  himself  packed  up  the  marchpane, 
and  carried  it  home  in  his  pocket. 


CHAPTER  XXII. 
THREE    COUNCILS. 

The  year  of  the  Rectorate  had  so  changed  the 
household  and  the  current  of  Use's  thoughts  that  she 
remarked  with  astonishment  to  her  husband,  "  I  feel 
as  if  I  had  just  come  from  school  into  the  bustle  of 
the  world."  Her  husband's  days  were  engrossed 
with  distracting  business:  difficult  transactions  between 
the  University  and  Government,  and  vexatious  occur- 
ences  among  the  students,  took  up  a  great  portion  of 
his  time. 

The  evening,  also,  did  not  pass  as  in  the  first  year, 
when  Use  watched  the  quiet  labors  of  her  husband,  or 
listened  to  his  friends;  for  many  were  occupied  by  the 
sessions  of  the  Senate,  and  others  by  large  parties, 
which,  as  Rector,  he  could  not  avoid.  When  their 
friends  came  to  tea,  the  master  of  the  house  was  often 
absent. 

Use  had  taken  her  father's  lessons  to  heart;  she 
lived  in  the  present,  and  avoided  distracting  thoughts. 
Her  husband  took  pains  to  keep  from  her  anything 
that  could  disturb  her  repose  of  mind,  and  the  intel- 
lectual diet  which  he  now  gave  her  did  her  good. 
When  he  again  saw  her  in  society  in  all  her  health 
and  strength,  with  color  in  her  cheeks  and  a  cheerful 
expression  in  her  countenance,  he  felt  it  his  duty  for 


30  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

ever  to  preserve  this  soul  from  the  intrusion  of  con- 
flicting ideas;  and  he  was  pleased  that,  by  frequent 
intercourse  with  various  kinds  of  men,  and  by  the 
light  bonds  of  a  genial  society,  she  began  to  feel  at 
home  in  his  circle.  It  delighted  him,  too,  to  find  that 
her  ingenuous  nature  was  appreciated;  and  she  was 
not  only  treated  with  distinction  by  the  men,  but  was 
also  a  favorite  with  the  ladies. 

Use  would  not,  however,  allow  her  private  con- 
clave— as  she  called  the  hours  during  which  she  re- 
ceived her  husband's  instruction — to  be  disturbed; 
she  adhered  to  it  with  rigid  strictness;  and  if  a  day 
was  missed,  the  lost  time  had  to  be  made  up  on  the 
following  one.  But  even  these  lessons  took  a  different 
course.  The  Professor  now  read  to  her  small  extracts 
from  old  writers,  who  portrayed,  in  prose  and  verse, 
the  attractive  beauty  of  the  life  of  the  ancients;  her 
innocent  mind  entered  into  the  cheerful  enjoyment  of 
this  strange  world,  and  the  impressions  which  she  re- 
ceived agreed  perfectly  with  the  way  in  which  she 
now  regulated  her  own  life.  The  Professor  explained 
to  her  some  of  the  poems  of  the  Greek  anthology  and 
of  Theocritus,  and  a  few  of  the  Roman  lyrics;  and,  by 
way  of  comparison,  he  read  to  her  the  poems  of  the 
great  German  who,  in  a  remarkable  way,  had  been 
able  to  unite  Greek  beauty  with  German  feeling. 

At  her  reception,  Use  showed  all  the  dignity  of  her 
position  as  the  Rector's  wife;  every  room  was  opened; 
the  apartments  were  decorated  and  brilliantly  illumi- 
nated; the  heads  of  the  University  and  city,  with  their 
wives,  made  their  appearance  in  numbers;  and  the 
Prince  and  his  Chamberlain  did  not  fail  to  be  present. 
Laura  assisted  gracefully  in  doing  the  honors,  and 
quietly  gave  directions  to  the  servants;  cake  and  wine 


THREE    COUNCILS.  31 

were  passed  around;  the  guests  made  themselves  very 
agreeable,  and  separated  in  the  highest  spirits.  The 
great  evening  had  passed  off  happily;  the  Doctor  and 
Laura  had  left;  Use  gave  her  last  injunctions  to 
Gabriel,  and  passed  through  the  rooms  once  more, 
with  the  glad  feeling  that  she  had  done  honor  to  Felix 
and  herself.  She  came  into  her  dressing-room,  and 
glanced  into  the  mirror. 

"You  need  not  examine  yourself  critically,"  said 
the  husband,  "everything  was  beautiful;  but  the  most 
beautiful  of  all  was  the  Rector's  wife." 

"Damon,  my  shepherd,"  replied  Use,  "you  are 
blinded.  It  is  not  the  first  time  you  have  said  this, 
but  I  like  to  hear  it;  you  may  still  tell  it  often  to  me. 
But  Felix,"  she  continued,  as  she  unloosened  her 
hair,  "there  is  something  inspiring  about  such  a 
society  even  where  people  do  nothing  but  talk.  One 
does  not  carry  away  much  of  it,  but  still  there  is  a 
pleasure  in  being  among  them;  they  are  all  so  courte- 
ous and  endeavor  to  appear  to  the  best  advantage, 
and  each  tries  to  please  the  other." 

"  They  do  not  all  succeed  in  giving  a  fair  idea  of 
what  they  are  on  such  occasions,  least  of  all  we 
book-worms,"  replied  Felix.  "But  there  is  no  doubt 
these  gatherings  give  a  certain  similarity  of  language 
and  manner,  and,  finally,  also  of  ideas  to  persons  who 
live  in  the  same  circle.  This  is  very  necessary,  for 
even  those  who  live  together  often  differ  as  much  in 
their  thoughts  and  feelings  as  if  they  had  been  born 
in  different  centuries.  How  did  you  like  the  Cham- 
berlain?" 

Use  shook  her  head.  "He  is  the  most  courteous 
and  lively  of  all,  and  knows  how  to  say  something 
civil  to  every  one;  but  one  cannot  trust  him,  for,  as 


32  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

with  an  eel,  one  has  no  hold  on  him,  and  can  never 
for  a  moment  look  into  his  heart.  I  prefer  our  Prince 
with  his  stiff  manner.  He  talked  to  me  about  his 
sister  to-day;  she  must  be  very  clever  and  charming. 
To  which  of  your  centuries  does  he  belong?" 

"To  the  middle  of  the  last,"  replied  her  husband, 
laughing;  "he  is  a  full  century  earlier  than  we  are, 
of  the  period  when  men  were  divided  into  two 
classes — those  who  were  fit  to  be  received  at  Court, 
and  serfs.  But  if  you  examine  those  about  us,  you 
will  discover  even  greater  disparities.  There  is  our 
Gabriel,  who  in  his  prejudices  and  his  poetry  belongs 
to  an  age  three  centuries  earlier  than  the  present. 
His  ways  of  thinking  remind  one  of  the  time  in  which 
the  great  Reformers  first  educated  our  people  to  think. 
On  the  other  hand,  the  hostile  neighbors  are,  in  many 
points  of  view,  the  representatives  of  two  opposing 
tendencies  which  ran  parallel  to  each  other  towards 
the  end  of  the  last  century — in  our  house,  obstinate 
rationalism;  in  the  old  people  over  there,  a  weak 
sentimentality." 

"And  what  time  do  I  belong  to?"  asked  Use, 
placing  herself  before  her  husband. 

"  You  are  my  dear  wife,"  he  exclaimed,  trying  to 
draw  her  towards  him. 

"I  will  tell  you,"  continued  Use,  eluding  him:  "in 
your  opinion,  I  belong  to  a  former  age,  and  once  that 
made  me  more  unhappy  than  I  can  express.  But  I 
no  longer  care  about  it.  For  when  I  can  compel  you 
to  kiss  my  hand  as  often  as  I  desire  it" — the  Professor 
was  very  willing — "when  I  see  that  it  requires  no  per- 
suasion to  induce  you  to  kiss  me  on  the  lips — it  is  not 
necessary  that  you  should  try  it  now, — I  believe  you. 
Further,  when  I  observe  that  the  learned  gentleman 


THREE    COUNCILS.  33 

is  not  disinclined  to  hand  my  slippers  to  me,  and  per- 
haps even  my  dressing  gown — I  do  not  wish  to  give 
you  trouble  now,  but  unhook  my  ear-rings  and  open 
the  jewel-box, — and  when  I,  besides,  observe  that  you 
are  anxious  to  please  me,  that  at  my  wish  you  took 
the  wife  of  the  Consistorial  Councillor  to  dinner,  whom 
you  could  not  bear,  and  that  you  have  bought  me  thi? 
beautiful  dress,  although  you  understand  nothing 
about  buying;  when  I,  further,  see  that  Magnificus  is 
quite  under  my  sway,  that  I  have  the  keys  of  the 
pantry,  and  even  manage  the  accounts;  and,  lastly, 
when  I  bear  in  mind  that  you,  good  bookworm,  think 
me,  your  wife  Use,  worthy  of  a  little  discussion 
together  with  your  Greeks  and  Romans,  and  that  it  is 
a  pleasure  to  you  when  I  understand  a  little  of  your 
learned  writings — I  come  to  the  conclusion  that  you 
belong  entirely  to  me,  you  and  your  century,  and  that 
jt  is  quite  indifferent  to  me  in  what  period  of  the 
world's  history  my  spirit  originated.  Then  when  I, 
the  relic  of  a  distant  century,  pinch  your  ear,  as  I  do 
now,  the  great  master  of  the  present  and  future,  and 
his  philosophizing  on  the  different  natures  of  men, 
become  simply  ludicrous.  Now  that  I  have  held  this 
discourse,  can  you  sleep  quietly?" 

"That  would  be  difficult,"  replied  the  Professor, 
"whilst  the  learned  housewife  is  fluttering  about  the 
bed,  holding  discourses  in  her  dressing-gown  which 
are  more  lengthy  than  those  of  a  Roman  philosopher, 
and  whilst  she  rattles  the  doors  of  the  cupboards  and 
wanders  about  the  room." 

"My  tyrant  requires  his  coffee  early  in  the  morning, 
so  it  must  be  given  out  now,  and  I  cannot  sleep  if  I 
have  not  all  the  keys  near  me." 


34.  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

"I  see  nothing  will  be  of  any  use."  said  the  Pro- 
fessor, "but  a  serious  exorcism." 

"I  must  see  whether  there  are  any  lights  burning 
in  the  rooms."  But  immediately  afterwards  she  knelt 
down  by  the  bed,  and  threw  her  arms  round  his  neck. 
"Everything  is  so  charming  in  the  world,  Felix,"  ex- 
claimed she;  "let  us  humbly  pray  that  our  happiness 
may  last." 

Yes,  you  are  happy,  Use;  but,  as  your  father  said, 
you  have  to  thank  your  prudence  for  it,  not  your 

courage. 

* 

*  * 

When  Use  wrote  to  her  father,  to  describe  how  the 
great  evening  party  had  passed  off,  she  did  not  forget 
to  add  that  her  future  Sovereign  had  been  among  the 
guests,  and  that  she  had  had  much  intelligent  conver- 
sation with  him.  Her  father  did  not  appear  to  attach 
much  value  to  this  last  communication,  for  he 
answered,  rather  irritated,  "  If  you  are  so  influential 
an  adviser,  exert  yourself  to  obtain  a  decision  for  us 
in  regard  to  the  highway.  The  affair  has  been  before 
the  magistrates  for  ten  years;  it  is  a  shame  that  we 
should  be  so  cut  off  from  all  the  world.  The  gray  has 
broken  his  leg.  Our  estate  would  be  worth  ten  thou- 
sand dollars  more  if  the  Government  were  not  so  dila- 
tory." 

Use  read  the  letter  to  her  husband,  and  said,  "We 
can  tell  the  Prince  about  the  road;  he  can  arrange  it 
with  his  father." 

Her  husband  laughed.  "  I  will  not  undertake  this 
commission:  it  does  not  appear  to  me  as  if  the  Prince 
would  have  great  influence  with  the  Government." 

"We  will  see  about  that,"  replied  Use,  gaily;  "at 
the  next  opportunity  I  shall  speak  to  him  about  it." 


THREE    COUNCILS.  35 

This  opportunity  soon  occurred.  The  Consistorial 
Councillor,  who  was  now  Theological  Dean,  had  a  tea- 
party.  It  was  a  distinguished  and  dignified  assem- 
bly, but  not  agreeable  to  Use;  she  had  long  mistrusted 
the  piety  of  the  Dean,  for  beneath  the  gown  of  the 
bland  gentleman  she  clearly  saw  a  fox's  tail  peeping 
out;  in  the  speeches  of  the  Dean's  wife  there  was  an 
unpleasant  mixture  of  honey  and  gall.  The  rooms 
were  small  and  hot,  and  the  guests  seemed  bored;  but 
the  Hereditary  Prince  and  his  Chamberlain  had 
promised  to  come.  As  he  entered,  the  master  of  the 
house  and  some  of  the  guests  who  were  acquainted 
with  the  customs  of  the  Court  endeavored  to  form  a 
line  for  his  reception;  but  all  their  attempts  were  vain, 
from  the  heedlessness  or  obstinacy  of  most  of  the 
company.  The  Prince,  led  by  the  Dean,  had  to  make 
his  way  through  the  groups  up  to  the  mistress  of  the 
house.  His  eyes  turned  from  her  sharp  features  and 
wandered  about  to  where  Use  stood,  like  a  being  from 
another  planet;  she  looked  quite  majestic;  her  ribbon 
head-dress  sat  like  a  coronet  on  her  wavy  hair,  which 
in  great  abundance  almost  surrounded  her  head.  The 
Prince  looked  shyly  up  to  her,  and  could  scarcely 
find  proper  words  with  which  to  accost  her.  When, 
after  a  short  greeting,  he  again  turned  to  the  rest  of 
the  company,  Use  was  displeased;  she  had  expected 
more  attention  from  their  intimacy.  She  did  not  con- 
sider that  his  position  in  society  was  not  that  of  a 
private  man,  and  that  he  had  to  fulfill  his  princely 
duties  before  he  could  go  about  like  others.  Whilst 
with  inward  disgust  he  did  what  his  position  required 
of  him,  going  slowly  round,  he  went  first  to  Hse's 
husband,  then  to  the  other  dignitaries;  had  some  pre- 
sented to  him,  and  asked  the  questions  that  are  con- 


36  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

sidered  right  in  these  cases;  but  he  waited  impatiently 
for  the  time  when  fate  would  allow  him  to  have  a 
little  conversation  with  his  countrywoman.  But  he 
did  his  duty  bravely;  the  Professor  of  History  ex- 
pressed his  pleasure  that  some  old  chronicles  of  his 
country  would  be  publised,  and  endeavored,  half-talk- 
ing and  half-teaching,  to  impress  him  with  their  im- 
portance. Meanwhile  the  Prince  thought  that  the 
Rector's  wife  would,  at  least,  sit  at  his  left  hand,  the 
Chamberlain  having  pointed  out  to  him  that  the  Dean's 
wife  might  be  at  his  right. 

The  affair  was  doubtful.  The  Dean's  wife  was 
certainly  the  hostess,  but  the  evening  had  a  certain 
official  University  tone  about  it,  and  Use  was  un- 
doubtedly entitled  to  precedence  among  the  professors' 
wives.  Nevertheless,  all  question  ceased  to  exist  when 
the  fact  was  considered  that  the  Dean,  on  account  of 
numerous  presentations  of  theological  works,  and 
many  letters  of  admiring  homage,  had  been  made  by 
the  reigning  sovereign,  Knight  Commander  of  his 
order.  He  had  been  so  exalted  by  this,  as  the  Cham- 
berlain explained,  that  the  difference  of  dignity  be- 
tween the  Magnificus  and  Dean  was  more  than  com- 
pensated, and  the  Dean's  wife  had  therefore  the  first 
place.  The  Chamberlain  acknowledged  that  in  reality 
it  was  a  matter  of  no  consequence  how  people  were 
seated  here,  for  there  could  be  no  question  of  any 
right  of  rank  in  this  society.  But  it  would  be  more 
becoming  for  the  Prince  not  to  neglect  all  distinctions. 

At  his  left,  at  all  events,  the  Prince  hoped  to  have 
Use.  But  even  this  hope  was  frustrated  by  the  art- 
fulness of  the  Dean's  wife.  For  there  was  amongst 
the  company  a  Colonel's  wife;  they  were  people  of  old 
family,  but  recently  come  to  the  place.  The  lady  of 


THREE    COUNCILS.  37 

the  house  lost  no  time  in  taking  the  Colonel's  wife  up 
to  the  Chamberlain,  and  on  meeting,  it  turned  out  that 
they  had  common  relations.  By  this  the  whole  ar- 
rangement of  rank  at  supper  was  disturbed.  The  lady 
claimed  her  right  to  be  presented.  The  Chamberlain 
took  her  to  the  Prince,  who  cleverly  anticipated  the 
former's  intention,  and  expressed  a  wish  to  make  the 
lady's  acquaintance. 

"She  allows  herself  to  be  presented  to  a  student!" 
said  little  Mrs.  Giinther,  astonished. 

"That  is  a  breach  of  social  rights,  which  touches  the 
dignity  of  woman,"  said  Mrs.  Struvelius,  displeased. 

"But  she  did  it  very  nicely,"  said  Use;  "her  man- 
ner with  him  pleases  me." 

The  ladies  did  not  know  that  the  object  of  their 
remarks  was,  in  this  moment  of  apparent  humiliation, 
enjoying  the  triumph  of  a  higher  position.  The  Prince, 
the  Colonel's  wife,  and  the  Chamberlain  for  a  short 
time  formed  a  group,  from  which  the  light  of  the 
evening  radiated,  all  three  with  the  proud  conscious- 
ness that  they  were  united  in  a  bond  of  fellowship 
among  strangers. 

The  consequence  of  this  presentation  was  that  the 
Colonel's  wife  sat  at  the  left  of  the  Prince,  and  Use 
between  two  Deans  opposite  to  him.  It  did  not  make 
it  easier  for  the  Prince  to  preserve  his  princely  dignity 
when  every  time  he  looked  up,  he  saw  the  eyes  and  curls 
of  his  countrywoman  opposite  to  him.  The  evening 
passed  slowly  for  him,  and  it  was  not  till  the  party  was 
breaking  up  that  he  had  an  opportunity  of  speaking 
to  Use  without  restraint. 

"Just  wait,"  thought  Use;  "you  shall  not  escape 
the  road." 

"Have  you  heard  from  your  father?"  inquired  the 


38  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

Prince,  a  question  by  which  he  frequently  began  the 
conversation. 

"My  news  is  not  good,"  replied  Use;  "only  think, 
your  Highness,  one  of  our  horses  has  broken  his  leg. 
It  was  a  grey  which  we  raised  ourselves,  a  good  gentle 
creature,  which  I  have  often  ridden,  though  my  father 
did  not  much  like  my  doing  so.  Then  I  must  tell 
your  Highness,  the  road  that  leads  to  the  great  market- 
town,  to  which  my  father  every  year  sends  his  grain, 
is  terribly  bad,  and  the  Government  does  nothing  to 
improve  it.  For  ten  years  the  matter  has  been  agi- 
tated, but  nothing  comes  of  it.  If  your  Highness 
could  help  to  obtain  a  good  road  for  us,  I  beg  of  you 
to  do  so;  it  will  be  a  benefit  to  the  whole  district." 

The  Prince  looked  at  her  kindly,  and  said,  with 
embarrassment: 

"It  is  an  affair  of  the  Government,  I  believe  my 
father  knows  nothing  of  it." 

"I  am  convinced  of  that,"  replied  Use;  "the  gen- 
tlemen of  the  Government  have  always  reasons  for 
doing  nothing;  they  understand  how  to  make  diffi- 
culties, and  pretend  they  have  no  money." 

The  Chamberlain  approached,  and  as  the  conver- 
sation had  taken  an  uncomfortable  political  turn,  the 
Prince  quickly  retreated,  bowing  and  smiling,  with 
these  words: 

"Let  us  hope  for  the  best." 

Use,  on  going  home,  said  to  her  husband: 

"Felix,  I  spoke  to  him  about  the  road;  he  is  a 
good  youth,  but  in  society  he  uses  only  formal 
speeches." 

Fortune  would  have  it  that  some  weeks  after,  the 
State  Councillor,  who  held  the  chief  administrative 
office  at  Rossau,  came  to  the  University,  visited  the 


THREE    COUNCILS.  39 

Chamberlain,  and  was  introduced  by  him  to  the 
Prince.  He  was  invited  to  dinner,  and  the  Prince 
showed  uncommon  interest  in  the  condition  of  the 
district  in  question;  he  inquired  about  the  estates  in 
the  neighborhood  and  their  proprietors;  and,  at  last, 
when  standing  alone  by  the  window  with  the  Coun- 
cillor, drinking  his  coffee,  said: 

"How  is  it  that  there  is  no  good  road  in  the 
district?  Could  not  you  do  something  about  it?" 

The  official  duly  enumerated  the  difficulties.  At 
last  the  Prince  replied: 

"Yes,  I  know  there  are  plenty  of  reasons;  but  I 
shall  be  obliged  to  you  if  you  will  give  yourself  the 
trouble  of  taking  the  matter  in  hand." 

Much  impressed  with  these  words,  the  Rossau 
official  returned  home.  He  revolved  them  in  his 
troubled  mind  for  three  days,  and  the  more  he  thought 
of  them  the  more  important  they  seemed;  his  own 
future  might  depend  upon  the  result.  At  last  he  came 
to  the  conclusion  that  an  extraordinary  exertion  was 
necessary;  he  therefore  went  at  once  to  the  seat  of 
Government  and  laid  the  whole  case,  and  a  large 
bundle  of  dusty  records  concerning  the  road,  before 
the  minister.  The  minister  thanked  him  for  his  com- 
munication, and  was  also  of  opinion  that  this  was  an 
incident  which  it  would  be  prudent  to  make  known  to 
his  Most  Serene  Highness.  When  he  had  concluded 
his  report  on  state  affairs,  he  mentioned  that  in  the 
district  of  Rossau  complaints  had  been  made  of  the 
bad  condition  of  the  roads,  and  that  a  strong  desire 
had  been  expressed  for  a  new  road,  and  the  Heredi- 
tary Prince  had  shown  a  lively  interest  in  the  matter. 
The  Prince  rose  hastily  from  his  seat. 

"The  Hereditary  Prince?     What  does  that  mean? 


40  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

It  is  very  satisfactory  to  me  to  find  that  my  son  takes 
an  interest  in  the  condition  of  the  country,"  he  added. 
"I  will  take  the  affair  into  consideration." 

The  same  day  a  letter  was  written  by  the  Prince 
himself  to  the  Chamberlain,  saying: 

"How  comes  the  Hereditary  Prince  to  take  an  in- 
terest in  the  building  of  a  new  road  at  Rossau?  I  de- 
sire further  information." 

The  Chamberlain  was  in  great  perplexity,  and  felt 
his  position  endangered  by  the  secret.  At  last, 
placed  in  a  position  between  father  and  son,  he  chose 
the  path  of  frank  disclosure  to  the  rising  sun,  and  ac- 
quainted the  Prince  with  his  father's  question. 

"You  see  what  importance  his  Serene  Highness 
attaches  to  the  communication;  the  details  must  be 
imparted  to  him." 

The  Prince  was  equally  confounded. 

"It  was  only  a  word  thrown  out  casually,"  he  re- 
joined, with  hesitation. 

"So  much  the  better,"  said  the  Chamberlain;  "all 
that  remains  to  be  said  is,  what  gave  rise  to  your 
Highness's  wish.  It  may  naturally  seem  strange  to  the 
Prince  that  his  subjects  or  magistrates  should  apply 
to  your  Highness  instead  of  to  him.  This,  so  far  as  I 
know,  does  not  seem  to  have  been  the  case." 

"No,"  replied  the  Prince,  "I  heard  of  it  at  the 
house  of  the  Rector.  I  simply  asked  the  Councillor 
about  it  when  he  was  here.  I  wanted  to  be  able  to 
give  an  answer,"  he  added,  shrewdly. 

The  Chamberlain  was  satisfied,  and  in  his  report 
extolled  the  Professor  and  Use,  at  whose  house  it  was 
very  pleasant  to  visit,  and  he  did  not  fail  to  observe 
that  the  Hereditary  Prince  enjoyed  calling  there. 
He  was  rejoiced  when,  a  few  days  after,  a  communica- 


THREE    COUNCILS.  4! 

tion  was  made  on  business  by  the  Cabinet  Secretary, 
and  followed  by  a  letter  from  the  Sovereign  himself, 
in  which  he  expressed  his  great  satisfaction  in  the 
conduct  of  the  Hereditary  Prince  and  the  Chamber- 
lain. 

Use  was  equally  rejoiced  when  her  father  wrote  to  her : 

"  Use,  are  you  a  witch?  An  order  has  been  given 
to  begin  building  the  road  immediately;  the  surveyor 
is  already  here  to  mark  it  out." 

At  dinner  Use  took  the  letter  out  of  her  pocket 
with  great  delight,  saying: 

"Read,  you  incredulous  man,  and  see  what  our 
little  Prince  has  been  able  to  accomplish;  after  all  we 
did  him  injustice.  My  poor  gray  excited  his  pity,  and 
he  wrote  everything  to  his  dear  father." 

The  next  time  that  Use  met  the  Hereditary  Prince, 
she  began,  after  the  first  greeting,  in  a  low  voice: 

"My  home  owes  warm  thanks  to  your  Highness, 
who  has  had  the  kindness  to  exert  yourself  for  our  road." 

"Is  it  to  be  built?"  asked  the  Prince,  surprised. 

"Does  not  your  Highness  know  it?  Your  inter- 
cession has  induced  his  Grace,  your  father,  to  have  it 
made." 

"My  intercession  would  have  had  little  effect," 
continued  the  Prince.  "No,  no,"  he  added,  earnesty 
disowning  it.  "I  did  not  write  to  my  father.  It  was 
altogether  his  own  decision." 

Use  remained  silent:  she  could  not  understand 
what  should  prevent  the  son  of  a  Prince  from  openly 
laying  before  his  father  a  request  on  a  matter  of 
business,  the  fulfillment  of  which  would  be  beneficial 
to  many;  that  he  should  disown  all  participation  in 
what  he  had  evidently  done,  appeared  to  her  a  quite 
inappropriate  display  of  modesty. 


42  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

The  last  letter  from  Court  had  confirmed  the 
Chamberlain  in  his  opinion  that  the  intimacy  of  the 
Hereditary  Prince  in  the  Rector's  house  was  not  dis- 
tasteful to  his  father.  He  reflected  sometimes  on  the 
reasons  for  this  interest  in  persons,  who  were  so  far 
removed  from  the  sphere  of  princely  notice.  He 
could  not  understand  it.  At  all  events  it  was  his  duty 
not  to  keep  the  Prince  away  from  their  home,  and 
likewise  to  make  himself  agreeable  to  the  Rector  and 
his  wife.  This  he  did  willingly  and  honestly,  and 
oftentimes  went  to  the  Professor's  without  the  Prince; 
he  asked  him  to  recommend  books  to  him,  showed 
great  deference  for  his  judgment  about  men,  and  was 
guided  by  the  Professor's  advice  in  the  choice  of  the 
Prince's  teachers.  The  energetic  dignity  and  proud 
frank  character  of  the  learned  man  attracted  the 
courtier,  and  Werner  became  a  valuable  acquaintance 
to  him.  He  was  also  sincerely  attached  to  Use,  and 
there  were  times  when  she  too  could  discover  some- 
thing of  the  worth  and  depth  of  heart  of  the  Cham- 
berlain. 

But  although  the  Chamberlain  possessed  all  the 
pliancy  of  a  courtier,  and  knew  that  the  visits  to  the 
Rector's  house  were  acceptable  both  to  his  young 
master  and  the  latter's  father,  he  showed  little  com- 
plaisance for  the  young  Prince's  wishes.  Indeed,  he 
was  inclined  to  make  difficulties  if  the  Hereditary 
Prince,  which  seldom  happened,  would  propose  to  join 
Werner's  at  tea;  he  went  there  with  him  at  propef 
intervals,  but  after  the  road  affair  he  avoided  any 
greater  intimacy  for  the  Prince.  On  the  other  hand, 
the  Chamberlain  endeavored  to  make  the  Prince  at 
home  with  the  students,  and  in  a  way  that  accorded 
with  his  rank.  Of  the  different  associations  which 


THREE    COUNCILS.  43 

were  denoted  by  colors,  customs,  and  statutes,  the 
corps  of  the  Markomanns  was  then  the  most  distin- 
guished. It  was  the  aristocratic  club,  included  many 
sons  of  old  families  and  some  of  the  best  fencers;  its 
members  wore  their  colored  caps  in  the  haughtiest 
manner,  were  much  talked  of,  and  not  very  popular. 
The  Chamberlain  found  a  relative  of  his  in  this  corps, 
and  the  leaders  were  found  to  possess  the  qualifica- 
tions necessary  to  appreciate  properly  the  social  po- 
sition of  his  young  master. 

Thus  the  Prince  became  intimate  with  the  asso- 
ciation, he  invited  the  students  to  his  apartments, 
sometimes  joined  in  their  lesser  drinking  bouts,  and 
was  agreeably  introduced  by  them  into  the  customs 
of  academic  life.  He  took  fencing  lessons,  and,  in 
spite  of  his  small  delicate  figure,  showed  some  apti- 
tude for  it,  and  the  swing  of  the  rapier  in  his  room 
daily  endangered  the  mirror  and  chandelier. 

Use  expressed  her  astonishment  to  her  husband 
that  the  Prince,  who  had  at  first  so  quickly  and  easily 
opened  his  heart  to  them,  had  held  back  so  cautiously 
since  the  road  affair. 

"Has  he  thought  me  too  forward?"  she  asked, 
with  vexation;  "it  was  said  with  the  best  intentions. 
But  I  find,  Felix,  it  is  not  with  these  great  people  as 
with  us.  If  we  once  put  confidence  in  people  we  feel 
at  home  with  them;  but  they  are  like  the  birds 
that  sing  a  song  close  to  your  ear,  and  then  at  once 
fly  off  and  seek  another  resting-place  far  away." 

"The  following  year  they  will  perhaps  come  again," 
replied  her  husband;  "any  one  who  tries  to  domesti- 
cate them  will  be  disappointed.  If  their  airy  path 
brings  them  near,  you  may  take  pleasure  in  them;  but 
one  should  not  trouble  oneself  about  these  triflers." 


44  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

Nevertheless,  in   secret   Use  was  vexed  with  the 

unfaithfulness  of  her  little  songster. 

*  * 

* 

"My  duty  brings  me  to  you  to-day,"  began  the 
Chamberlain,  on  entering  the  Professor's  room. 
"Among  the  lectures  which  are  desired  for  the  Heredi- 
tary Prince  is  one  upon  Heraldry.  I  beg  of  you  to 
recommend  to  me  a  teacher  who  could  give  him  a 
short  course  upon  the  subject.  In  the  capital,  there 
was  no  suitable  person,  and  I  confess  without  blushing 
that  my  knowledge  is  much  too  scanty  for  me  to  be 
able  to  impart  any  to  the  Prince." 

The  Professor  reflected. 

"  Among  my  colleagues  I  know  no  one  whom  I 
could  recommend.  It  is  possible  that  Magister  Knips 
may  have  knowledge  of  that  kind.  He  is  well  in- 
formed in  all  these  by-paths  of  learning;  but  he  has 
grown  up  in  a  low  condition  of  life,  and  his  manner  is 
highly  obsequious  and  old-fashioned." 

This  old-fashioned  obsequiousness  did  not  appear 
any  hindrance  to  the  Chamberlain;  and  as  he  himself 
wished  to  make  use  of  the  opportunity  to  ascertain 
clearly  the  meaning  of  a  mysterious  figure  in  his  own 
coat  of  arms,  which  looked  very  much  like  a  pitchfork, 
but  which  was  really  a  Celtic  Druid's  staff,  he  replied: 

"There  need  not  be  many  lectures,  and  I  can  be 
present  myself." 

Magister  Knips  was  called,  and  was,  as  usual,  at 
hand,  and  was  presented  to  the  Chamberlain.  The 
grotesque  figure  appeared  comical  to  the  latter,  but 
not  at  all  objectionable.  His  modesty  was  undenia- 
ble; his  obsequiousness  could  not  be  greater.  If  one 
could  put  him  into  a  tolerable  coat,  he  might,  for  a 
temporary  object,  be  allowed  to  sit  at  the  same  table 


THREE    COUNCILS.  45 

with  the  Hereditary  Prince  and  the  Chamberlain.  So 
the  Chamberlain  asked  whether  Master  Knips  could 
undertake  to  give  some  lectures  upon  heraldry. 

"If  the  gracious  and  noble  gentleman  might  be 
content  perchance  with  German  and  French  embla- 
zonry, I  believe  I  may  venture  to  offer  him  my  un- 
doubtedly unsatisfactory  knowledge.  But  of  English 
coats  of  arms  and  figures  my  knowledge  is  not  exten- 
sive, because  of  lack  of  opportunity.  I  would,  how- 
ever, endeavor  to  give  some  information  upon  the  new 
investigations  concerning  the  Honorable  Ordinary." 

"That  will  not  be  necessary,"  replied  the  Cham- 
berlain; and,  turning  to  the  Professor,  he  said:  "Will 
you  allow  me  to  arrange  details  with  Master  Knips?" 

The  Professor  left  them  to  transact  the  business, 
and  the  Chamberlain  continued,  more  freely: 

"I  will,  trusting  to  the  recommendation  of  the 
Rector,  endeavor  to  ascertain  whether  the  Hereditary 
Prince  can  avail  himself  of  your  instruction  and  derive 
the  proper  advantages  therefrom." 

Knips  bowed  lower  and  lower,  until  he  almost  dis- 
appeared into  the  ground;  but  his  head  was  reverently 
bent  towards  the  eye  of  the  Chamberlain.  The  latter 
mentioned  a  liberal  sum  as  the  price  of  the  lessons. 
Knips  smiled,  and  his  eyes  twinkled. 

"I  must  further  request,  Master  Knips,  that  you 
will  not  object  to  assume  a  becoming  appearance  for 
the  intended  lectures.  A  black  coat,  and  trousers  to 
match." 

"I  have  them,"  replied  Knips,  raising  his  voice. 

"White  waistcoat  and  white  cravat,"  continued  the 
Chamberlain. 

"  I  have  those  likewise,"  warbled  Knips. 

The  Chamberlain  considered  it  preferable  to  ascer- 


46  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

tain,  by  his  own  inspection,  the  capabilities  of  the 
candidate  in  this  respect. 

"Then  I  beg  of  you  to  make  your  appearance  at 
the  apartments  of  the  Hereditary  Prince  in  fitting 
guise.  There  we  will  confer  upon  details." 

Knips  appeared  the  following  morning  in  his  state 
dress,  and  the  Chamberlain  thought  that  the  man  did 
not  look  so  bad  after  all.  He  gave  him  to  understand 
that  a  learned  discussion  was  not  required,  but  rather  a 
rapid  survey,  and,  on  his  departure,  presented  to  him 
a  bottle  of  perfume,  for  his  white  pocket-handkerchief, 
in  order  to  consecrate  Knips'  atmosphere. 

Knips  prepared  himself  for  his  first  lesson.  He 
began  by  drawing  forth  his  paint-box,  several  com- 
plete letter-writers,  and  a  book  or  two  on  etiquette. 
He  painted  several  coats  of  arms,  and  from  the  books 
he  abstracted  some  respectful  forms  of  speech,  such 
as  the  servile  language  of  our  Government  officials 
have  sanctioned  in  intercourse  with  the  great,  and 
learnt  them  all  by  heart.  At  the  proper  hour  he  pre- 
sented himself  to  the  Chamberlain,  polished  and 
fragrant,  like  a  flower  whose  strength  of  stem  had 
been  extracted  by  the  heat  of  the  midday  sun.  Thus 
he  was  brought  into  the  presence  of  the  Prince,  and 
almost  withered  into  nothingness  as  he  approached 
the  chair  in  which  he  was  to  sit;  he  began  his  lecture 
by  drawing  out  of  a  small  portfolio  a  design  of  the 
Prince's  ancestral  coat  of  arms  and  a  sketch  of  the 
Chamberlain's  armorial  bearings;  he  laid  them  before 
the  Prince  with  the  deepest  reverence,  and  added  his 
first  explanations. 

His  lecture,  to  use  the  Chamberlain's  own  words, 
was  magnificent;  his  obsequious  arabesques  which 
wound  themselves  into  his  discourse  were  prolix,  it  is 


THREE    COUNCILS.  47 

true,  but  not  disagreeable;  they  were  comical,  yet 
well-suited  to  the  scrolls  he  was  lecturing  on.  He 
frequently  brought  drawings,  and  books  on  heraldry, 
and  engravings  from  the  library  for  inspection,  and 
showed  himself  more  thoroughly  informed  than  was, 
perhaps,  necessary.  If  he  chanced  to  fall  into  histori- 
cal discussions,  which  were  more  interesting  to  him 
than  his  hearers,  the  Chamberlain  would  simply  have 
to  raise  his  finger,  and  Knips  respectfully  resumed  the 
proper  topic.  The  gentlemen  took  more  pleasure  in 
his  lectures  than  in  many  of  those  given  by  the  Mag- 
ister's  patrons.  The  lessons  were  continued  through- 
out the  term,  for  it  was  discovered  accidentally  that 
Knips  had  a  good  deal  of  knowledge  of  tournaments, 
tilting,  and  other  knightly  amusements.  He  told  the 
Prince  about  the  old  festivities  of  his  noble  house, 
described  the  ceremonial  accurately,  and  even  knew 
the  names  of  those  who  had  assisted  at  them.  His 
knowledge  appeared  wonderful  to  his  hearers,  though 
it  cost  him  little  trouble  to  collect  this  information. 
At  the  conclusion  of  the  course  he  was  richly  rewarded, 
and  his  hearers  regretted  that  this  strange  figure,  with 
his  old-fashioned  knowledge,  was  no  longer  to  lecture 
before  them. 

"  Look  'here,  mother,"  cried  Knips,  entering  his 
room,  and  taking  a  small  roll  of  money  out  of  his 
pocket;  "that  is  the  largest  sum  I  have  ever  earned." 

The  mother  rubbed  her  hands.  "  My  blessing  upon 
the  gracious  gentlemen  who  know  how  to  value  my 
son!" 

"To value?" replied  Knips,  contemptuously.  "They 
know  nothing  about  me  or  my  learning,  and  the  less 
one  teaches  them  the  better  they  are  pleased.  It  is  a 
labor  for  them  even  to  look  for  what  stands  at  every- 


48  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

body's  disposal,  and  what  has  been  put  in  hundreds 
of  folios  is  new  to  them.  I  treated  them  like  little 
boys,  and  they  did  not  find  it  out.  No,  mother,  they 
understand  how  to  value  me  even  less  than  the  Pro- 
fessor world  here.  No  one  appreciates  my  knowledge. 
Yes,  there  is  one  that  does,"  he  murmured  to  himself, 
"but  he  has  more  pride  than  the  Chamberlain.  The 
Chamberlain  seems  to  wish  to  inform  himself  about 
the  old  tilts  and  masquerades;  I  will  send  him  my 
little  edition  of  Rohr  as  a  present.  There  is  so  little  in 
it  that  it  is  good  enough  for  him.  I  bought  the  book 
for  four  groschens;  the  parchment  is  still  tolerably 
white.  I  will  wash  it  with  sal-ammoniac,  and  paste  his 
coat  of  arms  into  it.  Who  knows  what  may  come 
of  it?" 

He  cleaned  it,  and  prepared  his  paints. 

"The  world  is  full  of  tricks,  mother.  Who  would 
have  thought  that  I  could  have  earned  anything  by 
this  old  absurd  nonsense  of  heraldry?"  He  drew  and 
painted  at  the  coat  of  arms.  "I  have  seldom  brought 
gold  into  the  house,  and  then  it  was  always  for  under- 
hand traffic  that  did  me  no  honor."  Here  he  broke 
off.  "  I  will  once  more  put  on  my  livery  when  I  take 
him  the  book,  then  put  it  out  of  sight." 


In  the  district  of  Rossau  the  road  surveyors  put  up 
their  stakes,  and  at  the  University,  Magister  Knips 
placed  the  white  pig's-skin  binding  in  the  hands  of 
his  illustrious  patron. 

Use  rejoiced  that  the  road  to  her  father's  estate 
would  be  useful  to  every  one,  and  the  professor  heard 
with  interest  that  the  man  whom  he  had  recommended 
had  succeeded  well,  and  he  smiled  kindly  at  the  ex- 


PHILOPENA.  49 

pressions  of  gratitude  tendered  by  the  Magister.  But 
for  the  good  formation  of  the  new  road,  and  the  ap- 
proved dexterity  of  the  little  man,  the  happy  couple, 
who  in  both  cases  had  hit  upon  the  right  person, 
were  to  receive  thanks  that  they  did  not  desire. 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 
PHILOPENA. 

One  evening  Use  had  placed  the  last  remaining 
dainties  of  the  holiday  season  on  the  table;  Laura  was 
rattling  an  uncracked  almond,  and  asked  the  Doctor 
whence  arose  the  time-honored  custom  of  Philopena. 
The  Doctor  doubted  the  antiquity  of  the  custom  and 
could  not  explain  its  origin  at  the  moment,  but  he  was 
evidently  perplexed  at  his  uncertainty  in  the  matter. 
Thus,  he  neglected  to  request  the  mutual  pledge  of 
the  double  almond.  Laura  cracked  the  shell  and 
carelessly  laid  two  almonds  between  him  and  herself, 
saying:  "There  they  are." 

"Shall  we   share  them?"     cried  the   Doctor,  gaily. 

"If  you  like,"  replied  Laura,  "giving  and  taking, as 
is  usually  done.  But  it  must  be  only  in  joke,"  she  added, 
thinking  of  her  father;  "  and  no  presents." 

Both  ate  the  almonds  with  the  laudable  intention 
of  losing  the  game.  The  consequence  was  that  the 
affair  did  not  advance.  Laura,  in  the  course  of  the 
following  week,  handed  books,  tea-cups,  and  plates  of 
meat  to  the  Doctor.  He  was  dumb  as  a  stick,  and 
never  said,  "  I  am  thinking  of  it."  Had  he  forgotten 
the  agreement,  or  was  it  his  usual  chivalry?  But  Laura 
could  not  remind  him  of  his  forgetfulness,  otherwise 


50  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

she  would  win  the  philopena.     She  again  became  very 
angry  with  him. 

"The  learned  gentleman  does  not  hand  anything 
to  me,"  she  said,  to  Use;  "he  treats  me  as  if  I  were/a 
stick." 

"It  must  be  unintentional,"  replied  Use;  "he  has 
forgotten  it  long  ago." 

"Of  course,"  cried  Laura;  "he  has  no  memory  for 
a  pretty  joke  with  such  an  insignificant  person  as  I  am." 

"Make  an  end  of  it,"  advised  Use;  "just  remind 
him  of  it." 

It  so  happened  that  the  Doctor,  on  one  occasion, 
could  not  avoid  picking  up  a  pair  of  scissors,  and 
handing  them  to  her. 

"  I  am  thinking  of  it,"  said  Laura;  and  added, 
pertly,  "that's  more  than  you  do." 

After  that  she  offered  the  Doctor  the  sugar-bowl; 
the  Doctor  took  a  piece  of  sugar  out  civilly,  but  was 
silent. 

"Good  morning,  philopena,"  she  cried,  contempt 
uously. 

The  Doctor  laughed,  and  declared  himself  van- 
quished. 

"  It  is  not  very  nice  of  you,"  continued  Laura, 
eagerly,  "to  have  cared  so  little  about  your  philopena. 
I  will  never  eat  one  with  you  again;  there  is  no 
honor  in  winning  from  gentlemen  who  are  so  absent- 
minded. 

Shortly  after,  the  Doctor  handed  her  a  small  printed 
book  in  beautiful  binding.  On  the  first  page  there  was 
written,  "For  Miss  Laura,"  and  on  the  second,  "The 
Origin  of  Philopena;  a  Tale."  It  was  the  history  of 
the  beautiful  daughter  of  a  king,  who  liked  to  crack 
and  eat  nuts,  but  would  not  marry;  she  accordingly  in- 


PHILOPENA.  51 

vented  the  following  strategem.  She  presented  to 
every  prince  who  sought  her  hand — and  they  were 
countless — the  half  of  a  double  almond,  and  she  ate 
the  other  half.  Then  she  said;  "If  now  your  High- 
ness can  compel  me  to  take  something  out  of  your 
hand  without  saying  the  words,  'I  am  thinking  of  it,' 
I  shall  consent  to  marry  you;  but  if  I  can  induce  your 
Highness  to  take  something  from  my  hand  without 
saying  these  words,  your  Highness  shall  have  your 
princely  head  shaven  and  forthwith  leave  my  country." 
But  there  was  a  trick  in  the  fulfillment  of  this  contract; 
for  according  to  the  customs  of  the  court  no  one  could 
put  anything  into  the  beautiful  Princess's  own  hand 
on  pain  of  death,  but  he  must  give  it  to  the  lady-in- 
waiting  and  she  would  hand  it  to  the  Princess.  But 
if  the  Princess  herself  chose  to  take  or  hand  something, 
who  could  prevent  her?  Thus  it  became  a  bitter 
pleasure  for  the  wooers.  For  however  much  they 
might  endeavor  to  induce  the  Princess  to  take  some- 
thing out  of  their  hands  without  the  intervention  of 
the  lady-in-waiting,  the  latter  always  interposed  and 
spoilt  their  best-laid  plans.  But  when  the  Princess 
wished  to  get  rid  of  a  suitor,  she  was  so  gracious  to 
him  for  a  whole  day  that  he  was  quite  enchanted;  and 
when  he  sat  next  to  her,  and  was  already  intoxicated 
with  joy,  she  took,  as  if  by  accident,  something  that 
was  near  her,— a  pomegranate,  or  an  egg, — and  said, 
softly,  "Keep  this  in  remembrance  of  me."  As 
soon  as  the  Prince  took  the  thing  in  his  hand,  and  per- 
haps was  preparing  to  say  the  saving  words,  the 
thing  burst  asunder,  and  a  frog,  a  hornet,  or  a  bat, 
flew  out  towards  his  hair,  so  that  he  drew  back 
frightened,  and,  in  his  fear,  forgot  the  words;  whereat 
he  was  shaven  on  the  spot,  and  sent  about  his  business. 


52  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

Thus  years  had  passed,  and  in  all  the  kingdoms 
roundabout,  the  princes  wore  wigs, — these  have  since 
become  fashionable.  Then  it  happened  that  the  son 
of  a  foreign  king,  while  traveling  upon  some  business 
of  his  own,  by  accident  saw  the  almond-queen.  He 
thought  her  beautiful,  and  at  the  same  he  took  note  of 
the  artifice  that  had  ruined  the  hopes  of  her  former 
suitors.  Now  a  little  grey  dwarf  in  whose  favor  he 
stood,  had  given  him  an  apple,  at  which  he  might 
smell  once  every  year,  and  then  a  clever  idea  would 
occur  to  him.  He  had,  therefore,  become  very  famous 
amongst  all  kings  on  account  of  his  clever  ideas. 
Now  the  time  of  the  apple  had  come;  he  smelt,  and 
at  once  this  bright  thought  came  to  him:  "If  you 
would  win  the  game  of  giving  and  taking,  you  must 
under  no  conditions  either  give  anything  to  her  or 
take  anything  from  her."  And  so  he  had  his  hands 
firmly  bound  in  his  girdle,  went  with  his  Marshal  to 
court,  and  said  he  also  would  be  glad  to  eat  an  almond. 
The  Princess  was  much  pleased  with  him,  and  had 
the  almond  handed  to  him.  His  Marshal  took  it  and 
put  it  in  his  mouth.  Then  the  Princess  inquired 
what  that  meant,  and  why  he  always  carried  his  hands 
in  his  girdle.  He  answered  that  his  Court  customs 
were  even  stricter  than  hers;  and  he  must  not  take  or 
give  anything  with  his  hands,  but  only  with  his  feet 
or  head."  The  Princess  laughed,  and  said: 

"  In  this  way  we  can  never  manage  our  game!" 
He  shrugged  his  shoulders  and  answered: 
"Only  in  case  you  will  condescend  to  take  things 
from  my  boots." 

"That  can  never  be,"  cried  the  Court  in  chorus. 
"Then  why  did   you  come  here?"  exclaimed  the 
Princess,  vexed,  "  if  you  have  such   stupid   customs?" 


PHILOPENA.  53 

"  Because  you  are  so  beautiful,"  returned  the  Prince; 
"and  if  I  cannot  win  you  I  can  yet  look  upon  you." 

"  I  can  say  nothing  against  that,"  answered  the 
Princess. 

So  the  Prince  remained  at  Court,  and  came  to 
please  her  more  and  more.  But  as  she  too  was  of  a 
mischievous  disposition,  she  endeavored  in  every  way 
to  mislead  him  and  persuade  him  to  draw  his  hand 
out  of  his  girdle  and  take  something  from  her.  She 
conversed  much  with  him,  and  made  him  presents  of 
flowers,  bonbons,  and  smelling-bottles,  and  at  last  even 
of  her  bracelet.  Many  times  his  hands  twitched,  but 
he  felt  the  pressure  of  the  belt  and  recollected  himself, 
nodded  to  the  Marshal  who  collected  the  things,  and 
said: 

"We  think  of  it." 

Now  the  Princess  became  impatient,  and  so  one  day 
she  began  after  this  fashion: 

"My  handkerchief  has  fallen  down;  could  your 
Highness  pick  it  up  for  me?" 

The  Prince  took  the  handkerchief  by  the  ends  of 
his  toes  and  waved  it;  the  Princess  bent  down,  took 
the  handkerchief  from  his  feet,  and  cried  out,  angrily: 

"I  am  thinking  of  it." 

A  year  had  passed  thus,  and  the  Princess  said  to 
herself,  "  It  cannot  continue  so;  an  end  must  be  made 
of  the  affair,  in  one  way  or  the  other."  So  she  began 
thus  to  the  Prince: 

"  I  have  the  lovliest  garden  in  the  world,  which  I 
will  show  your  Highness  to-morrow." 

The  Prince  smelt  at  his  apple  again.  When  they 
came  to  the  garden  the  Prince  began: 

"It  is  wonderfully  beautiful  here;  that  we  may  be 
able  to  walk  together  in  peace,  and  not  be  disturbed 


54  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

by  our  game,  I  beg,  my  dear  Princess,  that  you  will 
adopt  my  Court  custom,  if  only  for  an  hour,  and  allow 
your  hands  to  be  bound.  Then  we  shall  be  sure  of 
each  other,  and  nothing  vexatious  can  happen  to  us." 

This  did  not  please  the  Princess,  but  he  entreated 
and  she  could  not  refuse  him  this  trifle.  Thus  they 
walked  together,  with  their  hands  bound  in  their 
girdles.  The  birds  sang,  the  sun  shone  warm,  and 
from  the  branches  the  red  cherries  hung  down  almost 
touching  their  cheeks.  The  Princess  looked  up  at  the 
cherries,  and  exclaimed: 

"What  a  pity  it  is  that  your  Highness  cannot  pluck 
some  of  them  for  me." 

The  Prince  answered,  "  Necessity  is  the  mother  of 
invention;"  and  seizing  a  cherry  with  his  mouth  he 
offered  it  to  the  Princess.  Nothing  remains  for  her 
but  to  put  her  mouth  to  his  in  order  to  take  the  cherry, 
and  when  she  had  the  fruit  betwen  her  lips,  and  a  kiss 
from  him  in  addition,  she  could  not  at  the  moment 
say,  "I  am  thinking  of  it," 

Then  he  exclaimed,  aloud,  "Good  morning,  Philo- 
pena,"  drew  his  hands  out  of  his  girdle  and  embraced 
her;  they  were  of  course  married  and  if  they  have  not 
since  died,  they  still  live  together  in  peace  and  happi- 
ness. 

This  story  the  Doctor  had  written  and  caused  to 
be  printed  especially  for  Laura,  so  that  no  one  else 
could  have  the  book. 

Laura  carried  the  book  to  her  private  room,  looked 
with  pride  on  her  name  in  print,  and  repeatedly  read 
the  foolish  little  story.  She  walked  to  and  fro  re- 
flecting; and  when  she  thus  considered  her  relations 
with  Fritz  Hahn,  she  could  not  feel  easy  in  her  con- 
science. From  her  childhood  she  had  been  under  ob- 


PHILOPENA.  55 

ligations  to  him;  he  had  always  been  good  and  kind  to 
her;  and  she,  and  still  more  her  father,  had  always 
caused  him  vexation.  She  thought  penitently  of  all 
the  past,  up  to  the  cat's  paws;  the  indefinite  feeling 
she  had  concerning  the  "  Philopena  "  was  now  clear  to 
her;  she  could  not  be  as  unembarrassed  as  she  ought 
to  be,  nor  as  indifferent  as  she  would  wish,  because 
she  was  always  under  the  heavy  burden  of  obligation. 
"  I  must  come  to  an  understanding  with  him.  Ah! 
but  there  is  a  barrier  between  him  and  me, — my  father's 
commands."  She  revolved  in  her  mind  how,  without 
acting  against  his  commands,  she  could  give  the  Doctor 
some  pleasure.  She  had  ventured  something  of  the 
kind  with  the  orange-tree;  if  she  could  devise  anything 
that  would  remain  unknown  to  those  over  the  way 
there  would  be  no  danger;  no  tender  relations  and  no 
friendship  would  arise  from  it,  which  her  father  might 
wish  to  avoid.  She  hastened  down  to  Use,  saying, 
"My  obligations  to  the  Doctor  oppress  me  more  than 
1  can  express;  it  is  insupportable  to  feel  myself  always 
in  his  debt.  Now  I  have  bethought  me  of  something 
which  will  bring  this  state  of  things  to  a  conclusion." 

"Take  good  care,"  replied  Use,  "that  the  affair  is 
really  brought  to  a  conclusion ,  that  will  stand  in  the 
future." 

Laura  went  at  once  to  the  Professor,  whom  she 
found  in  his  study,  and  asked  in  a  merry  voice  if  he 
could  not  aid  her  in  playing  a  joke  upon  her  kind- 
hearted,  yet  unmanageable,  neighbor.  "  He  collects 
all  sorts  of  antiquities,"  she  said,  "  and  I  should  like 
to  get  him  something  rare  that  he  would  like.  But 
nobody  must  know  that  I  have  anything  to  do  with  it, 
himself  least  of  all." 

The  Professor  promised  to  think  of  something. 


56  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

Some  time  afterwards  he  placed  in  Laura's  hands 
a  small  torn  volume,  that  looked  reduced  to  a  pitiful 
state.  "They  are  single  copies  of  old  popular  songs," 
said  he,  "  that  at  some  time  or  other  have  been  bound 
together.  I  hit  upon  them  by  a  lucky  accident.  The 
little  book  is  valuable;  totheamateur  its  worth  is  beyond 
proportion  greater  than  the  price.  Do  not  be  dis- 
turbed at  its  bad  appearance.  Fritz  will  take  out  the 
separate  songs,  and  arrange  them  in  order  in  his  col- 
lection. I  am  convinced  you  could  not  make  him  a 
present  that  would  please  him  better." 

"He  shall  have  it,"  said  Laura,  contented,  "but 
he  shall  surfer  for  it  nevertheless." 

It  was  a  fine  collection:  there  were  some  very  rare 
pieces  among  them,  an  entirely  unknown  edition  of  the 
ballad  of  the  unfortunate  Knight  Tanhauser,  the 
ballad  of  the  Robber  Toss  Bowl,  and  a  great  many 
other  charming  selections.  Laura  carried  the  book 
upstairs,  and  carefully  cut  the  thread  of  the  bound 
sheets,  which  held  them  loosely  together.  She  then 
sat  down  to  her  writing-table,  and  commenced  an 
anonymous  correspondence,  which  was  made  neces- 
sary by  her  father's  tyranny,  writing  the  following  in  a 
disguised  hand:  "  Dear  Doctor,  an  unknown  person 
sends  you  this  song  for  your  collection;  he  has  thirty 
more  like  these,  which  are  intended  for  you,  but  only 
on  certain  conditions.  First,  you  are  to  preserve 
towards  every  one,  whoever  it  may  be,  inviolate  se- 
crecy in  the  matter.  Secondly,  you  are  to  send  for 
every  poem  another  written  by  yourself,  on  any  sub- 
ject, addressed  to  O.  W.,  at  the  Post-office.  Thirdly, 
if  you  are  willing  to  agree  to  this  compact,  walk  past 
No.  10  Park  street,  with  a  flower  in  your  button-hole, 
about  three  o'clock  in  the  afternoon  on  one  of  the 


PH1LOPENA.  57 

next  three  days.  The  sender  will  be  exceedingly  grat- 
ified if  you  will  enter  into  this  pleasantry.  Truly  Yours 
N.  N."  The  song  of  Robber  Toss  Bowl  was  enclosed 
with  this  letter. 

It  was  five  minutes  after  nine  by  the  Doctor's  watch, 
which  was  confirmed  by  later  investigations,  when 
this  letter  was  brought  into  his  room;  the  barometer 
was  rising;  light,  feathery  clouds  fleeted  across  the 
sky,  and  the  moon's  pale  crescent  shone  forth  from 
among  them.  The  Doctor  opened  the  letter,  the 
green-tinted  paper  of  which  contrasted  with  the  old 
printed  sheet,  yellow  with  age,  that  accompanied  it. 
He  unfolded  the  yellow  sheet  hastily,  and  read: 

"  Stortebecker  und  Godecke  Michael, 

De  rovvten  alle  beede." 
"  Godecke  Michael  and  Toss  Bowl,  Knight, 

They  fought  all  day  and  they  fought  all  night." 

There  was  no  doubt  it  was  the  original  low  German  text 
of  the  famous  ballad,  which  had  hitherto  been  lost  to 
the  world,  that  lay  bodily  before  him.  He  was  as 
pleased  as  a  child  with  a  Christmas-box.  Then  he 
read  the  letter,  and  when  he  came  to  the  end,  he  read 
it  again.  He  laughed.  It  was  clearly  all  a  roguish 
jest.  But  from  whom?  His  thoughts  turned  first  to 
Laura,  but  she  had  only  the  evening  before  treated 
him  with  cold  contempt.  Use  was  not  to  be  thought 
of,  and  such  playful  mischief  was  very  unlike  the  Pro- 
fessor. What  did  the  house  No.  10  mean?  The 
young  actress  who  lived  there  was  said  to  be  a  very 
charming  and  enterprising  young  lady.  Was  it  possi- 
ble she  could  have  any  knowledge  of  folk-songs,  and, 
the  Doctor  could  not  help  thinking,  a  tender  feeling 
for  himself?  The  good  Fritz  chanced  to  step  before 
the  mirror  for  a  moment,  and  he  at  once  uttered  an 
inward  protest  against  the  possibility  of  such  an  idea, 


58  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

and,  laughing,  he  went  back  to  his  writing-table  and 
to  his  popular  song.  He  could  not  enter  into  the 
pleasantry,  that  was  clear,  but  it  was  a  pity.  He  laid 
the  Robber  Toss  Bowl  aside,  and  returned  to  his  work. 
After  a  time,  however,  he  took  it  up  again.  This  val- 
uable contribution  had  been  sent  to  him,  at  all  events, 
without  any  humiliating  condition;  perhaps  he  might 
be  allowed  to  keep  it.  He  opened  a  portfolio  of  old 
folk-songs,  and  placed  it  in  its  order  as  if  it  had  been 
his  own.  Having  laid  the  treasure  in  its  proper  place, 
he  restored  the  portfolio  to  the  bookshelf,  and  thought, 
it  is  a  matter  of  indifference  where  the  sheet  lies. 

In  this  way  the  Doctor  argued  with  himself  till 
after  dinner.  Shortly  before  three  o'clock  he  came 
to  a  decision.  If  it  was  only  the  joke  of  an  intimate 
acquaintance,  he  would  not  spoil  it;  and  if  there  had 
been  some  other  motive,  it  must  soon  come  to  light. 
Meanwhile,  he  might  keep  the  document,  but  he 
would  not  treat  it  as  his  own  possession  till  the  right 
of  the  sender  and  his  object  was  clear.  He  must,  in 
the  first  place,  communicate  this  view  of  the  case  to 
his  unknown  friend.  After  he  had  made  the  neces- 
sary compromise  between  his  conscience  and  his 
love  of  collecting,  he  fetched  a.  flower  out  of  his 
father's  conservatory,  placed  it  in  his  button-hole,  and 
walked  out  into  the  street.  He  looked  suspiciously 
at  the  windows  of  the  hostile  house,  but  Laura  was 
not  to  be  seen,  for  she  had  hid  behind  the  curtains, 
and  snapped  her  fingers  at  the  success  of  her  jest 
when  she  saw  the  flower  in  his  buttonhole.  The 
Doctor  was  embarrassed  when  he  came  in  front  of  the 
house  appointed.  The  situation  was  humiliating,  and 
he  repented  of  his  covetousness.  He  looked  at  the 
window  of  the  lower  story,  and  behold!  the  young 


PHILOPENA.  59 

actress  was  standing  close  to  it.  He  looked  at  her  in- 
telligent countenance  and  attractive  features,  took  off 
his  hat  courteously,  and  was  weak  enough  to  blush; 
the  young  lady  returned  the  civility  tendered  by  the 
well-known  son  of  the  neighboring  house.  The  Doctor 
continued  his  walk  some  distance  beyond;  there  ap- 
peared to  him  something  strange  in  this  adventure.  The 
presence  and  greeting  of  the  actress  at  the  window 
certainly  did  not  appear  to  be  accidental.  He  could 
not  get  rid  of  his  perplexity;  only  one  thing  was  quite 
clear  to  him,  he  was  for  the  present  in  possession  of 
the  ballad  of  the  Robber  Toss  Bowl. 

As  his  qualms  of  conscience  did  not  cease,  he  de- 
bated with  himself  for  two  days  whether  he  should 
enter  upon  any  further  interchange  of  letters;  on  the 
third  he  silenced  his  remaining  scruples.  Thirty  bal- 
lads, very  old  editions — the  temptation  was  overpow- 
ering! He  looked  up  his  own  attempts  in  rhyme, — 
effusions  of  his  own  lyrical  period, — examined  and  cast 
them  aside.  At  last  he  found  an  innocent  romance 
which  in  no  manner  exposed  him;  he  copied  it,  and 
accompanied  it  by  a  few  lines  in  which  he  made  it  a 
condition  that  he  should  consider  himself  only  the 
guardian  of  the  songs. 

Some  days  afterwards  he  received  a  second  packet; 
it  was  a  priceless  monastery  ditty,  in  which  the  virtues 
of  roast  Martinmas  goose  were  celebrated.  It  was  ac- 
companied by  a  note  which  contained  the  encouraging 
words:  "Not  bad;  keep  on." 

Again  Laura's  figure  rose  before  his  eyes,  and  he 
laughed  right  heartily  at  the  Martinmas  goose.  This 
also  was  an  old  edition  of  which  there  was  no  record. 
This  time  he  selected  an  ode  to  Spring  from  his 
poems  and  addressed  it,  as  directed,  to  O.  W. 


60  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

The  Professor  was  astonished  that  the  Doctor  kept 
silence  about  the  book  of  ballads,  and  expressed  this 
to  Use,  who  was  partly  in  the  secret.  • 

"He  is  bound  not  to  speak,"  she  said;  "she  treats 
him  badly.  But  as  it  is  he,  there  is  no  danger  in  the 
joke  for  the  bold  girl." 

But  Laura  was  happy  in  her  game  of  chess  with 
masked  moves.  She  put  the  Doctor's  poem  care- 
fully into  her  private  album,  and  she  thought  that  the 
Hahn  poetry  was  not  so  bad  after  all;  nay,  it  was  ad- 
mirable. But  even  more  gratifying  to  her  sportive- 
ness  than  the  correspondence,  was  the  thought  that 
the  Doctor  was  to  be  forced  into  a  little  affair  of  sen- 
timent with  the  actress.  When  she  met  him  again  at 
Use's,  and  one  of  those  present  was  extolling  the 
talent  of  the  young  lady,  she  spoke  without  embar- 
rassment, and  without  turning  to  the  Doctor,  of  the 
curious  whims  of  the  actress,  that  once,  when  an  ad- 
mirer, whom  she  did  not  like,  had  proposed  to  serenade 
her,  she  had  placed  her  little  dog  at  the  window  with 
a  night-cap  on,  and  that  she  had  a  decided  preference 
for  the  company  of  strolling  apprentices,  and  could 
converse  with  them  in  the  most  masterly  way  in  the 
dialect  of  her  province. 

The  unsuspecting  Doctor  began  to  reflect.  Was  it 
then  really  the  actress  who,  without  his  knowing  it, 
was  in  correspondence  with  him? 

This  gave  Fritz  a  certain  tacit  respect  for  the 
lady. 

Once  when  Laura  was  sitting  with  her  mother  at 
the  play  watching  the  actress,  she  perceived  Fritz 
Hahn  in  the  box  opposite.  She  observed  that  he  was 
looking  fixedly  through  his  opera-glass  at  the  stage, 
and  sometimes  broke  out  in  loud  applause.  She  had 


PHILOPENA.  6 1 

evidently  succeeded  in  putting  him  upon  the  wrong 
track. 

Meanwhile  he  discovered  that  the  unknown  cor- 
respondent knew  more  than  how  to  write  addresses. 
Laura  had  looked  through  the  songs  and  studied  the 
text  of  the  old  poem  of  the  Knight  Tanhauser,  who 
had  lingered  with  Venus  in  the  mountain,  and  she 
sent  the  ballad  with  the  following  lines: — - 

"While  reading  through  this  song  I  was  overcome 
with  emotion  and  horror  at  the  meaning  of  the  old 
poetry.  What,  in  the  opinion  of  the  poet,  became  of 
the  soul  of  poor  Tanhauser?  He  had  broken  away 
from  Venus,  and  had  returned  penitent  to  the  Chris- 
tian faith;  and  when  the  stern  Pope  said  to  him,  'It 
is  as  little  possible  for  you  to  be  saved  as  for  the  staff 
that  I  hold  in  my  hand  to  turn  green,'  he  returned 
to  Venus  and  her  mountain  in  proud  despair.  But 
afterwards  the  staff  in  the  hands  of  the  Pope  did  turn 
green,  and  it  was  in  vain  that  he  sent  his  messengers 
to  fetch  the  knight  back.  What  was  the  singer's  view 
of  Tanhauser's  return  to  evil?  Would  the  '  Eternal 
love  and  mercy'  still  forgive  the  poor  man,  although 
he  had  for  the  second  time  surrendered  himself  up  to 
the  temptress?  Was  the  old  poet  so  liberal-minded 
that  he  considered  the  return  to  the  heathen  woman 
as  pardonable?  Or  is  Tanhauser  now,  in  his  eyes, 
eternally  lost?  and  was  the  green  staff  only  to  show 
that  the  Pope  was  to  bear  the  blame?  I  should  be 
glad  to  hear  your  explanation  of  this.  I  think  the 
poem  very  beautiful  and  touching,  and,  when  one 
thoroughly  enters  into  its  spirit,  there  is  powerful 
poetry  in  the  simple  words.  But  I  feel  much  dis- 
turbed about  the  fate  of  Tanhauser.  Your  N.  N." 

The  Doctor  answered  immediately: 


62  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

"It  is  sometimes  difficult,  from  the  deep  feeling 
and  terse  expressions  of  olden  poetry,  to  understand 
the  fundamental  idea  of  the  poet;  and  most  difficult  of 
all  in  a  poem  which  has  been  handed  down  for  centu- 
ries by  popular  tradition,  and  in  which  changes  in  the 
words  and  meaning  must  certainly  have  taken  place. 
The  first  idea  of  the  song,  that  mortals  dwell  in  the 
mountains  with  the  old  heathen  gods  rests  on  a  notion 
which  originated  in  ancient  times.  The  idea  that  the 
God  of  Christians  is  more  merciful  than  his  represent- 
tative  on  earth  has  been  rooted  in  Germany  since  the 
time  of  the  Hohenstaufens.  One  may  refer  the  origin 
of  the  poem  to  that  period.  It  probably  attained  the 
form  in  which  it  is  now  handed  down  to  us,  about  the 
middle  of  the  fifteenth  century,  when  the  opposi- 
tion to  the  hierarchy  in  Germany  was  general,  both 
among  high  and  low.  The  grand  idea  of  this  oppo- 
sition was  that  the  priests  cannot  forgive  sins,  and 
that  only  repentance,  atonement,  and  elevation  of  the 
heart  to  God  can  avail.  The  copy  which  you  have  so 
kindly  sent  me,  is  of  the  early  period  of  Luther,  but 
we  know  that  the  song  is  older,  and  we  possess  various 
texts,  in  some  of  which  it  is  more  prominently  set  forth 
that  Tanhauser  after  his  second  fall  might  still  trust 
in  the  divine  mercy.  But  undoubtedly  in  the  text  you 
have  sent  me  the  singer  considers  poor  Tanhauser  as 
lost  if  he  did  not  liberate  himself  from  the  power  of 
Venus,  but  that  he  might  be  saved  if  he  did.  Accord- 
ing to  popular  tradition  he  remained  with  her.  The 
great  and  elevating  thought  that  man  may  shake  off 
the  trammels  of  past  sin  may  be  discovered  in  this 
poem,  the  poetical  value  of  which,  I  place  as  high 
as  you  do.'' 

When   Laura  received   this  answer, — Gabriel  was 


PHILOPENA.  63 

again  her  confidential  messenger, — she  jumped  up 
with  joy  from  her  writing-table.  She  had  with  Use 
grieved  over  poor  Tanhauser,  and  given  her  friend  a 
copy  of  the  poem;  now  she  ran  down  to  her  with  the 
Doctor's  letter,  proud  that,  by  means  of  a  childish 
joke,  at  which  Use  had  shaken  her  head,  she  had  en- 
tered into  a  learned  discussion.  From  this  day  the 
secret  correspondence  attained  an  importance  for  both 
Laura  and  Fritz  which  they  had  little  thought  of  in 
the  beginning;  for  Laura  now  ventured,  when  she 
could  not  satisfy  herself  on  any  subject,  or  took  a  se- 
cret interest  in  anything,  to  impart  to  her  neighbor 
thoughts  which  hitherto  had  been  confined  to  her 
writing-table,  and  the  Doctor  discovered  with  aston- 
ishment and  pleasure  a  female  mind  of  strong  and 
original  cast,  which  sought  to  obtain  clear  views  from 
him,  and  unfolded  itself  to  him  with  unusual  con- 
fidence. These  feelings  might  be  discovered  in  his 
poems,  which  were  no  longer  taken  out  of  the  port- 
folio, but  assumed  a  more  personal  character.  Lau- 
ra's eyes  moistened  as  she  read  the  pages  in  which  he 
expressed  in  verse  his  anxiety  and  impatience  to 
become  acquainted  with  his  unknown  correspondent. 
The  feeling  evinced  in  his  lines  was  so  pure,  and 
one  saw  in  them  the  good  and  refined  character  of  the 
man  so  clearly  that  one  could  not  fail  to  place  full  con- 
fidence in  him.  The  old  popular  songs,  in  the  first 
instance  the  main  object,-  became  gradually  only  the 
accompaniments  of  the  secret  correspondence,  and  the 
wings  of  Laura's  enthusiastic  soul  soared  over  golden 
clouds,  whilst  Mr.  Hummel  growled  below  and  Mr. 
Hahn  suspiciously  awaited  fresh,  attacks  from  the 
enemy. 

But  this  poetical  relation  with  the  neighbor's  son, 


64  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

which  had  been  established  by  Laura's  enterprising 
spirit,  was  exposed  to  the  same  danger  that  threatens 
all  poetic  moods — of  being  at  any  moment  destroyed 
by  rude  reality.  The  Doctor  was  never  to  know  that 
she  was  his  correspondent, — the  daughter  of  the 
enemy  whom  he  daily  met,  the  childish  girl  who 
quarreled  with  him  in  Use's  room  about  bread  and 
butter  and  almonds.  When  they  met,  he  was  always 
as  before  the  Doctor  with  the  spectacles,  and  she  the 
little  snappish  Hummel,  who  had  more  of  her  fa- 
ther's ill  manners  than  Gabriel  would  admit.  The 
sulking  and  teasing  between  them  went  on  every  day 
as  formerly.  Nevertheless,  it  was  inevitable  that  a 
warm  feeling  should  sometimes  beam  in  Laura's  eyes, 
and  that  the  friendly  disposition  with  which  she 
really  regarded  the  Doctor  should  sometimes  be  be- 
trayed in  a  passing  word.  Fritz,  therefore,  labored 
under  an  uncertainty  over  which  he  secretly  laugaed, 
but  which,  nevertheless,  tormented  him.  When  he 
received  the  well-disguised  handwriting  he  always  saw 
Laura  before  him;  but  when  he  met  his  neighbor  at 
his  friend's  she  succeeded,  by  mocking  remarks  and 
shy  reserve,  in  perplexing  him  again.  Necessity  com- 
pelled her  to  this  coquetry,  but  it  acted  upon  him  each 
time  like  a  cold  blast;  and  then  it  struck  him,  it  can 
not  be  Laura, — is  it  the  actress? 

There  was  general  astonishment  at  the  tea-table 
when  the  Doctor  once  hinted  that  he  had  been  invited 
to  a  masked  ball,  and  was  not  averse  to  attending  the 
noisy  gathering.  The  ball  was  given  by  a  large  circle  of 
distinguished  citizens,  to  which  Mr.  Hummel  be- 
longed. The  peculiarity  of  this  party  was  that  the 
chief  actors  of  the  city  were  admitted  as  welcome 
guests.  As  the  Doctor  had  hitherto  never  shown  any 


PHILOPENA.  65 

inclination  for  this  kind  of  social  entertainment,  the 
Professor  was  astonished.  Laura  alone  guessed  the 
cause,  but  all  received  the  announcement  of  this  un- 
usual intended  dissipation  with  silent  pleasure. 

Mr.  Hummel  was  not  of  the  opinion  that  a  masked 
ball  was  the  place  where  the  worth  of  a  German  cit- 
izen was  shown  to  greatest  advantage.  He  had  un- 
willingly yielded  to  the  coaxing  of  the  ladies  in  his 
family,  and  was  now  seen  standing  among  the  masks 
in  the  ball-room.  He  had  thrown  the  little  black  domino 
carelessly  about  his  back  like  a  priest's  mantle;  his  hat 
was  pressed  down  over  his  eyes;  the  silk  fringe  of  the 
mask  overshadowed  his  face  on  all  sides,  which 
was  as  unmistakable  as  a  full  moon  behind  thin 
clouds.  He  looked  mockingly  on  the  throng  of  masks 
that  streamed  past  him,  somewhat  less  comfortable 
and  more  silent  than  they  would  have  been  without 
masks  and  colored  coats.  Obnoxious  to  him  more 
than  all  were  the  harlequins  scattered  about,  who,  at 
the  beginning  of  the  festival,  affected  an  extravagance 
of  conduct  which  was  not  natural  to  them.  Mr.  Hum- 
mel had  good  eyes,  but  it  happened  to  him,  as  to 
others,  that  he  was  not  able  to  recognize  every  one 
who  was  masked.  All  the  world  knew  him,  however. 
Some  one  tugged  at  his  clothes. 

"  How  is  your  dog  Spitehahn?"  asked  a  gentle- 
man in  rococo  dress,  bowing  to  him. 

Hummel  bowed  in  return.  "Thanks  for  your  kind 
inquiry.  I  would  have  brought  him  for  a  bite  of  the 
calves  of  your  legs  if  you  had  been  provided  with  that 
article." 

"  Does  this  kind  of  a  Hummel-bee  sting?"  asked 
a  green  domino,  in  a  falsetto  voice. 

"  Spare  your  remarks,"  replied  Hummel,  angrily; 


66  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

"your  voice  is  fast  changing  into  a  woman's.  I  quite 
pity  your  family." 

He  moved  on. 

"Will  you  buy  a  pack  of  hareskins,  brother  Hum- 
mel?" asked  a  wandering  pedlar. 

"  I  thank  you,  brother,"  replied  Hummel,  fiercely; 
you  may  let  me  have  the  ass's  skin  that  your  wife  tore 
from  your  face  in  your  last  quarrel." 

"  There's  the  rough  felt  of  our  city,"  cried,  pertly, 
a  little  clown,  as  he  gave  Mr.  Hummel  a  blow  upon 
the  stomach  with  his  wand. 

This  was  too  much  for  Mr.  Hummel:  he  seized  the 
diminutive  clown  by  the  collar,  took  his  wand  away 
from  him,  and  held  the  refractory  little  fellow  on  his 
knee.  "  Wait,  my  son,"  he  cried;  "you'll  wish  you 
had  a  rough  felt  in  another  place  than  on  your  head." 

But  a  burly  Turk  caught  him  by  the  arm.  "  Sir, 
how  can  you  dare  to  lay  hold  of  my  son  in  this  man- 
ner? " 

"  Is  this  chattel  yours? "  returned  Hummel,  fu- 
riously; "yourblotting-paper  physiognomy  is  unknown 
to  me.  If  you,  as  Turk,  devote  yourself  to  the  rear- 
ing of  ill-mannered  buffoons,  you  must  expect  to  see 
Turkish  bamboo  on  their  backs,  that  is  a  principle  of 
international  law.  If  you  do  not  understand  this  you 
may  come  to  me  to-morrow  morning  at  my  office;  I 
will  make  the  thing  clear  to  you,  and  hand  over  to  you 
a  bill  for  the  watch-crystal  that  this  creature  from  your 
harem  has  broken  for  me." 

Thereupon  he  threw  the  clown  into  the  arms  of  the 
Turk,  and  the  wand  on  the  ground,  and  clumsily  made 
his  way  through  the  masks  who  surrounded  him. 

"  There  is  not  a  human  soul  among  them,"  he 
growled;  "  one  feels  like  Robinson  Crusoe  among  the 


PHILOPENA.  67 

savages."  He  moved  about  the  ball-room  utterly  re- 
gardless of  the  white  shoulders  and  bright  eyes  that 
danced  about  him,  and  again  disappeared.  At  last  he 
caught  sight  of  two  grey  bats  whom  he  thought  he 
knew,  for  it  appeared  to  him  that  the  masks  were  his 
wife  and  daughter.  He  went  up  to  them,  but  they 
avoided  him  and  mixed  in  the  throng.  They  were 
undoubtedly  of  his  party,  but  they  intended  to  remain 
unknown,  and  they  knew  that  would  be  impossible  if 
Mr.  Hummel  was  with  them.  The  forsaken  man  turned 
and  went  into  the  next  room,  seated  himself  in  soli- 
tude at  an  empty  table,  took  his  mask  off,  ordered  a 
bottle  of  wine,  asked  for  the  daily  paper,  and  lighted 
a  cigar. 

"Pardon  me,  Mr.  Hummel,"  said  a  little  w-aiter; 
"no  smoking  here!" 

"You  too,"  replied  Mr.  Hummel,  gloomily.  "You 
see  there  is  smoking  here.  This  is  my  way  of  mas- 
querading. Matters  are  becoming  wearisome.  Every 
vestige  of  humanity  and  all  consideration  for  others 
is  being  trodden  under  foot  to-day;  and  that  is  what 
they  call  a  bal  masque" 

Meanwhile  Laura  slipped  about  among  the  masks, 
looking  for  the  Doctor.  Fritz  Hahn  could  easily  be 
discovered  by  sharp  eyes,  for  he  wore  his  spectacles 
over  his  mask..  He  was  standing  in  a  blue  domino, 
near  an  elegant  lady  in  a  red  mantle.  Laura  pressed 
up  to  him.  Fritz  was  writing  something  in  the  hand 
of  the  lady,  most  likely  her  name,  for  she  nodded  care- 
lessly; then  he  wrote  again  in  her  hand,  pointing  to 
himself.  Probably  it  was  his  own  name,  for  the  lady 
nodded,  and  Laura  thought  that  she  could  see  under 
her  veil  that  she  was  laughing.  Laura  heard  the 
Doctor  speaking  to  the  lady  of  a  role  in  which  he  had 


68  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

lately  seen  her  on  the  stage,  and  he  addressed  her 
with  the  familiar  "thou."  That  was,  indeed,  the  priv- 
ilege of  a  masquerade  ball,  but  it  was  entirely  unnec- 
essary. The  Doctor  expressed  his  pleasure  that  in 
the  balcony  scene  the  lady  had  so  well  understood 
how  to  represent  the  glowing  feeling  of  passion  in 
such  difficult  metre.  The  red  mantle  became  attent- 
ive, and,  turning  to  the  Doctor,  began  to  speak  of  the 
role  she  had  taken.  The  lady  spoke  for  some  time, 
and  then  Doctor  Romeo  would  continue  still  longer. 
The  actress  stepped  back  some  steps  into  the  shadow 
of  a  pillar;  the  Doctor  followed  her,  and  Laura  saw 
that  the  red  mantle  curtly  answered  some  other  male 
masks,  and  again  turned  to  the  Doctor.  At  last  the 
actress  seated  herself  quite  behind  the  pillar,  where 
she  was  little  seen  by  strangers,  and  the  Doctor  stood 
near  her,  leaning  against  it,  and  continuing  the  con- 
versation. Laura,  who  had  also  placed  herself  near 
the  pillar,  heard  how  animated  it  was.  The  subject 
was  passion.  Now  it  was  not  the  passion  which  one 
felt  for  the  other,  but  that  of  the  stage;  but  even  that 
was  more  than  a  friend  of  the  Doctor  could  ap- 
prove of. 

Laura  stepped  hastily  forward,  placed  herself  near 
Fritz  Hahn,  and  raised  her  finger  warningly.  The 
Doctor  looked  astonished  at  the  bat,  and  shrugged  his 
shoulders.  Then  she  seized  his  hand,  and  wrote  his 
name  in  it.  The  Doctor  made  a  bow,  upon  which  she 
held  out  her  hand.  How  could  he  know  her  in  that 
disfiguring  disguise?  He  gave  decided  proof  of  his 
ignorance,  and  turned  again  to  the  lady  in  the  red 
mantle.  Laura  stepped  back,  and  colored  up  to  her 
temples  under  the  mask.  It  was  in  anger  with  her- 
self, for  she  was  the  unfortunate  one  who  had  brought 


PHILOPENA.  69 

him  into  this  danger:  and  moreover  she  had  come  in 
such  a  disguise  that  he  could  not  recognize  her. 

She  returned  to  her  mother,  who  had  at  last  been 
fortunate  enough  to  find  a  companion  in  Laura's. god- 
mother, and  had  got  into  the  corner  of  the  room  in 
order  to  exchange  observations  on  the  bodily  develop- 
ment of  the  baptized  little  Fritz.  Laura  placed  her- 
self next  her  mother,  and  looked  at  the  dancing  masks 
with  indifference.  Suddenly  she  sprang  up,  for  Fritz 
Hahn  was  dancing  with  the  lady  in  the  red  mantle. 
Was  it  possible?  He  had  long  abjured  dancing.  More 
than  once  he  had  ridiculed  Laura  for  her  pleasure  in 
it;  even  she  herself  had  at  times,  when  sitting  before 
her  private  journal,  thought  how  childish  this  mono- 
tonous whirling  movement  was,  and  how  incompatible 
with  a  nobler  conception  of  life; — now  he  was  turning 
himself  round  like  a  top. 

"What  do  I  see?"  cried  her  mother;  "is  not 
that ?  and  the  red  one  is  — 

"  It  is  immaterial  with  whom  he  dances,"  inter- 
rupted Laura,  in  order  to  avoid  hearing  the  hated 
confirmation  of  it.  But  she  knew  Fritz  Hahn,  and 
she  was  aware  there  was  some  signification  in  this 
waltz.  Juliet  pleased  him  much,  otherwise  he  would 
never  have  done  it;  he  had  never  shown  her  this  mark 
of  distinction.  The  old  comedian  of  the  city  theatre 
approached  them  as  Pantaloon;  he  had  at  last  found 
out  the  two  influential  ladies;  he  tripped  up  to  them, 
made  grotesque  obeisances,  and  began  to  amuse  her 
mamma  with  his  gossip.  One  of  his  first  remarks  was, 
"  It  is  said  that  young  Hahn  will  go  upon  the  stage; 
he  is  studying  his  role  as  lover  with  ourprima-donna." 

Laura  turned  with  annoyance  from  the  flat  remark. 
Her  last  hope  was  the  time  of  unmasking;  she  im- 


7O  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

patiently  awaited  the  moment.  At  last  there  was  a 
pause,  and  the  masks  were  removed.  She  took  her 
mother's  arm  to  go  through  the  room  to  greet  their 
acquaintances.  It  seemed  a  long  time  before  she  got  into 
the  neighborhood  of  Fritz  Hahn,  and  not  once  did  he 
look  at  her.  Laura  made  a  movement  with  her  hand 
to  touch  him  gently;  but  she  pressed  her  fingers  firm- 
ly, and  passed  by  fixing  her  eyes  upon  him.  Now  at 
last  he  recognized  her,  as  he  ought  to  have  done  long 
before.  She  saw  the  look  of  pleasure  in  his  counte- 
nance, and  her  heart  became  lighter.  She  stopped 
while  he  exchanged  some  civil  sentences  with  her 
mother,  and  she  expected  that  he  would  acknowledge 
that  she  had  already  greeted  him,  but  he  did  not  men- 
tion a  word  of  the  occurrence.  Had  so  many  written 
in  his  hand  that  he  could  not  bear  in  mind  one  poor 
little  bat?  When  he  turned  to  her  he  only  praised  the 
ball  music.  This  was  all  the  notice  he  thought  her 
worthy  of.  His  conversation  with  Juliet  had  been  the 
free  interchange  of  mind,  but  to  her  he  only  addressed 
a  few  indifferent  sentences.  Her  countenance  assumed 
the  gloomy  Hummel  look,  as  she  answered,  "You 
used  to  have  little  sympathy  for  the  jingling  instru- 
ment to  which  the  puppets  dance." 

The  Doctor  looked  embarrassed,  but  laughed,  and 
asked  her  for  the  next  dance.  This  was  bad  tact. 
Laura  answered  bitterly,  "  When  the  grey  bat  was  so 
bold  as  to  flutter  about  Romeo,  he  had  no  dance  free 
for  her;  now  her  eyes  are  blinded  by  the  bright  light." 
She  bowed  her  head  like  a  queen,  took  her  mother's 
arm,  and  left  him  behind. 

What  followed  was  still  more  aggravating.  The 
Doctor  danced  once  more  with  the  lady  in  the  mantle. 
Laura  observed  how  fascinatingly  she  smiled  on  him, 


PHILOPKNA.  71 

and  he  danced  with  no  one  else.  Of  her  he  took  no 
further  notice,  and  she  was  glad  when  soon  after  Mr. 
Hummel  came  up  to  them  and  said:  "It  was  difficult 
to  find  you.  When  I  inquired  of  the  people  for  the 
two  ugliest  disguises,  you  were  pointed  out  to  me. 
I  shall  be  glad  if  to-morrow  morning  you  awake  with- 
out headache.  We  have  had  enough  of  pleasure  to- 
day." 

Laura  was  glad  when  the  carriage  arrived  at  home; 
she  rushed  up  to  her  room,  hastily  took  her  book  out 
of  the  drawer,  and  wrote  rapidly: 

"  Cursed  be  my  deed  and  cursed  all  sinful  art; 

My  own  true  happiness  is  now  at  stake 
A  troup  of  enemies  surrounds  my  heart, 

Which  bleeding  from  so  deadly  wounds  will  break." 

she  wiped  away  the  tears  which  rolled  upon  her  paper. 

The  bright  light  of  the  following  morning  exercised 
its  tranquilizing  influence  on  her  fluttering  thoughts. 
Over  there  Fritz  Hahn  was  still  lying  in  his  bed.  The 
good  youth  had  tired  himself  yesterday.  Many  drops 
of  water  might  still  flow  into  the  sea  before  friend 
Fritz  would  determine  to  unite  his  fate  with  an  actress 
of  tragedy.  She  brought  out  her  supply  of  old  bal- 
lads and  selected  one;  it  was  a  very  jolly  one:  the 
May-Bug's  Marriage — in  which  the  may-bug  on  the 
hedge  asks  in  marriage  the  young  maiden  fly.  Many 
little  birds  occupy  themselves  seriously  about  the  wed- 
ding, but  at  last  it  is  put  an  end  to  by  some  disrepu- 
table conduct  on  the  part  of  the  bridegroom. 

"Good,"  said  Laura;  "my  May-Bug  Fritz,  before 
you  marry  the  frivolous  fly  Juliet,  other  birds  shall 
have  their  say  about  it." 

She  folded  up  the  song,  and  added  to  it  a  little 
note:  "You  guess  wrongly.  The  person  who  sends 
this  to  you  never  was  Juliet."  As  she  closed  the  letter 


72  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

she  said  to  herself,  with  more  composure:  "If  he  does 
not  now  perceive  that  he  was  mistaken,  one  cannot 
think  much  of  his  judgment." 

The  Doctor  was  sitting  a  little  stupefied  over  his 
books,  when  his  eye  fell  upon  the  above  letter.  He 
cast  a  look  upon  the  Marriage  of  the  May-Bug;  he  had 
never  yet  come  across  an  old  copy  of  it,  and  in  rap- 
idly glancing  over  it  he  saw  that  many  verses  were 
quite  different  from  our  current  text.  Then  he  took 
the  note,  and  endeavored  to  interpret  the  oracle. 
Now  it  was  clear  that  the  actress  was  the  sender,  for 
who  else  could  know  that  he  had  accosted  her  as 
Juliet,  and  that  they  had  conversed  long  about  this 
role.  But  what  could  the  words  mean,  "You  guess 
wrongly?"  But  even  on  this  point  his  eyes  were 
blinded;  he  had  maintained  that  the  representation 
of  passion  could  only  be  to  a  certain  extent  attained 
by  an  actor,  if  he  had  never  in  his  life  experienced  a 
similar  feeling.  This  the  actress  denied,  and  they  had 
endeavored  to  come  to  an  agreement  about  it;  her 
words,  therefore,  clearly  meant  that  she  had  imper- 
sonated Juliet  without  ever  having  previously  felt  a 
great  passion.  This  was  a  confession  that  showed  great 
confidence — nay,  perhaps  still  more.  The  Doctor  sat 
long  looking  at  the  note;  but  he  now  felt  pretty  sure 
who  his  correspondent  was,  and  the  discovery  did  not 
give  him  pleasure.  For  when  he  had  reasoned  the 
matter  out  upon  rational  grounds,  it  had  always  been 
Laura's  eyes  that  beamed  upon  him  from  the  paper, 
though  undoubtedly  quite  another  look  from  that 
which  she  had  favored  him  with  yesterday.  He  laid 
the  May-Bug  Marriage  with  the  other  songs,  and  again 
asked  himself  whether  he  ought  to  continue  the  cor- 
resp~ondence.  At  last  he  sealed  in  answer  one  of  the 


PHILOPENA.  73 

worthless  trifles  of  his  portfolio,  and  did  not  write 
anything  in  addition. 

Some  days  after,  when  the  Professor  and  Use  were 
walking  through  the  streets,  they  passed  by  the  dwel- 
ling of  the  actress;  both  saw  their  friend  standing  at 
the  window  of  the  heroine,  and  he  nodded  to  them 
from  within. 

"How  has  he  made  this  acquaintance?"  asked  the 
Professor;  "is  not  the  young  lady  considered  very 
fast?" 

"I  fear  so,"  answered  Use,  troubled. 

Now  Mrs.  Knips  (who  dwelt  opposite  to  the 
actress)  came  running  in  to  Madame  Hummel  one 
day  with  the  linen  still  damp,  and  told  her  that  on  the 
previous  evening  a  great  basket  of  champagne  had 
been  taken  to  the  actress's  house,  and  that  in  the 
night  the  loud  singing  of  a  dissolute  company  had 
been  heard  over  the  whole  street,  and  that  young 
Doctor  Hahn  had  been  among  them! 

On  Sunday  the  comedian  had  been  invited  to  din- 
ner at  Mr.  Hummel's,  and  one  of  his  first  anecdotes 
was  concerning  a  jovial  party  which  had  taken  place 
at  the  actress's.  With  the  malice  which  is  often  to 
be  found  in  fellow-artists  towards  each  other,  he 
added,  "She  has  found  a  new  admirer,  the  son  of  your 
neighbor  over  the  way.  Well!  the  father's  money 
will  at  least  come  to  the  support  of  art."  Mr.  Hum- 
mel opened  his  eyes  and  shook  his  head,  but  only 
said,  "So  Fritz  Hahn  too  has  gone  among  the  actors 
and  become  dissipated:  he  is  the  last  one  that  I  should 
have  suspected  of  this." 

Mrs.  Hummel  endeavored  to  bring  to  mind  her  rec- 
ollections of  the  ball,  and  found  in  them  a  sorrowful 
confirmation  of  this,  but  Laura,  who  had  been  sitting 


74  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

very  pale  and  silent,  broke  forth  vehemently  to  the 
actor: 

"  I  will  not  suffer  you  to  speak  of  the  Doctor  in 
such  a  tone  at  our  table.  We  are  well  enough  ac- 
quainted with  him  to  know  that  he  is  in  conduct  and 
principles  a  noble  man.  He  is  master  of  his  own  ac- 
tions, and  if  he  likes  the  lady  and  visits  her  at  times, 
a  third  person  has  no  right  to  say  anything  in  the 
matter  whatever.  It  is  a  malicious  calumny  to  say 
that  he  goes  there  with  any  dishonorable  intentions, 
and  spends  money  that  does  not  belong  to  him." 

The  comedian,  through  fright,  got  a  crumb  of 
bread  in  his  wind-pipe,  and  burst  out  in  the  most  vio- 
lent fit  of  coughing  that  had  ever  seized  him,  but  the 
mother,  in  excuse  of  their  pleasant  visitor,  replied: 

"You  have  sometimes  felt  yourself,  that  the  con- 
duct of  the  Doctor  was  not  quite  the  thing." 

"  If  I  have  said  anything  of  the  kind  in  foolish  ill 
temper,"  cried  Laura,  "  it  was  an  injustice,  and  I  am 
very  sorry  for  it;  I  have  only  the  excuse  that  I  never 
meant  it  ill-naturedly.  But  from  others  I  will  hear 
no  slanderous  talk  about  our  neighbor."  She  rose 
from  table  and  left  the  room.  The  actor  vindicated 
himself  to  the  mother,  but  Mr.  Hummel  grasped  his 
wine-glass  and,  peering  after  his  daughter,  said: 

"On  a  gloomy  day  she  is  scarcely  to  be  distin- 
guished from  me." 

The  Doctor  was  little  troubled  about  his  own  mis- 
deeds. He  had  paid  a  visit  to  his  partner  after  the 
ball,  the  occasion  on  which  he  had  been  seen  at  the 
window.  One  of  his  school  friends,  now  second  tenor 
at  the  theatre,  had  come  and  arranged  with  the  actress 
to  have  a  little  picnic  on  her  approaching  birthday, 
and  Fritz  had  been  invited  to  take  part  in  it.  It  was 


PHILOPENA.  75 

a  merry  gathering,  and  the  Doctor  had  found  much 
entertainment  among  the  light-winged  birds  of  the 
stage,  and  had  rejoiced  with  the  benevolence  of  a  wise 
man  at  the  good  tact  which  was  visible  amidst  the 
easy  style  of  their  intercourse.  There  had  also  been 
much  intelligent  conversation  in  the  course  of  the 
evening,  and  he  went  home  with  the  impression  that 
even  for  a  person  like  himself  it  was  good  to  be  for 
once  associated  with  these  lively  artists.  He  had  en- 
deavored that  same  evening,  by  a  stratagem,  to  as- 
certain his  unknown  correspondent.  When  they  were 
singing  songs,  and  with  lively  grace  reciting  comic 
verses,  he  had  produced  the  May-bug  song  and  had 
begun  to  sing  it: 

"The  May-bug  sat  on  the  hedge,  brum,  brum  ; 
The  fly  sat  beneath  him,  hum,  hum  hum." 

Some  had  joined  in  it;  the  lady  in  the  mantle  did  not 
know  the  song,  however,  but  only  a  similar  one  from 
an  old  role;  and  when  the  bass  took  up  the  melody 
from  the  Doctor,  and  in  the  following  verses  por- 
trayed each  of  the  birds  as  they  entered  by  gestures 
and  comic  changes  of  the  melody,  the  hostess  laughed, 
and  without  any  embarassment  undertook  to  learn  the 
song,  so  that  the  Doctor  again  became  very  doubtful, 
and  on  returning  home  remained  standing  on  the 
threshold  and  looked  significantly  at  the  house  of  Mr. 
Hummel.  If  any  one  had  accurately  investigated 
why,  after  this  May-bug  song,  the  Doctor  became 
noisy  and  gay  like  the  others,  he  would  perhaps  have 
discovered  that  the  unembarrassed  air  of  the  actress 
had  lifted  a  load  from  his  heart. 

But  this  helped  him  little  with  respect  to  the 
"brum"  and  "hum"  of  the  neighbors.  All  Park 
Street  had  latterly  accorded  to  their  Fritz  Hahn  the 


76  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

highest  respect;  his  picture  had  been  placed  among 
the  serious  men  of  learning  in  their  albums,  whom 
they  daily  contemplated  and  spoke  of.  Now  strange 
features  had  appeared  in  the  well-known  face,  and  the 
street  could  not  bear  that  one  of  their  children  should 
appear  otherwise  than  he  had  been  wont  to  do.  There- 
fore there  was  much  whispering  and  shaking  of  heads, 
and  this  came  to  the  knowledge  of  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Hahn, 
and,  finally,  to  the  Doctor.  He  laughed,  but  he  did 
not  feel  quite  at  ease  about  it. 

"Tannhauser,  noble  knight  and  man, 

In  Venus'  wiles  thou  liest  ensnared, 
While  I,  a  wicked  Pope  Urban, 
To  cause  you  shame  and  sorrow  dared." 

Thus  did  Laura  lament  in  her  room,  but  she  con- 
cealed her  heavy  sorrow,  and  did  not  speak  a  word 
concerning  the  danger  of  the  Doctor,  even  to  Use; 
and  when  the  latter  once  slightly  alluded  to  the  new 
intimacy  of  their  friend,  Laura  broke  the  thread  of  her 
embroidery,  and  said,  while  the  blood  rushed  to  her 
heart: 

"Why  should  not  the  Doctor  visit  there?  He  is  a 
young  man  for  whom  it  is  good  to  see  different  people; 
he  stays  too  much  in  his  room  and  with  his  parents. 
If  I  had  been  a  man  like  him,  I  should  long  ago  have 
tied  up  my  bundle  and  gone  out  into  the  world,  for 
our  narrow  field  of  active  life  weakens  the  energies 
and  dwarfs  the  mind." 

At  the  tea-table  one  of  the  company  present  turned 
the  conversation  on  the  actress,  and  shrugged  his 
shoulders  over  her  free  manners.  Laura  felt  what 
must  be  the  Doctor's  embarrassment;  there  sat  poor 
Fritz,  obliged  to  listen  to  the  derogatory  criticisms — 
his  intimate  acquaintances  were  silent,  and  looked 
significantly  at  him;  his  position  was  terrible,  for 


PHILOPENA.  77 

every  fool  made  use  of  the  lady's  unprotected  position 
to  show  himself  a  Cato. 

"I  wonder,"  she  said,  "that  gentlemen  should  so 
severely  criticise  the  little  freaks  of  an  actress.  A  lady 
of  that  profession  should  be  treated  with  great  con- 
sideration, for  she  is  deprived  of  all  the  protection  and 
all  the  pleasure  which  we  have  in  our  families.  I  am 
convinced  that  she  is  a  worthy  and  sensitive  girl." 

The  Doctor  looked  thankfully  at  her  and  confirmed 
her  opinion.  He  did  not  observe  it,  but  it  had  hap- 
pened as  in  his  fairy-tale;  Laura  had  bent  down  to  his 
feet  and  picked  up  the  pocket-handkerchief. 

But  she  had  still  more  to  bear.  The  month  of 
March  began  his  theatrical  pranks  in  the  world;  first 
from  his  grey  clouds  he  had  cast  a  veil  of  snow  over 
the  landscape;  icicles  hung  from  the  roofs  and  white 
crystals  from  the  trees,  and  the  wild  storm  howled  all 
around.  Suddenly  all  was  transformed.  A  mild  south 
wind  blew,  the  buds  of  the  trees  swelled,  and  the  fresh 
green  made  its  appearance  in  the  meadow;  the  chil- 
dren ran  about  in  the  woods  and  carried  home  large 
bunches  of  spring  flowers,  and  people,  rejoicing  in  the 
change,  passed  in  unceasing  pilgrimage  through  the 
Park  Street  out  into  the  sunshine. 

Even  Mr.  Hummel  felt  the  presage  of  spring. 
He  gave  expression  to  this  annually  by  mixing  the 
colors  for  his  boat,  and  taking  a  pleasure  walk  on  a 
well-chosen  afternoon  with  his  wife  and  daughter  to 
a  distant  coffee-garden.  This  festive  journey  was  but 
an  indifferent  pleasure  for  Laura,  for  Mr.  Hummel 
walked  with  sturdy  step  in  front  of  the  ladies;  he  se- 
cretly rejoiced  in  the  renewal  of  old  nature,  and  only 
occasionally  favored  his  ladies  with  a  remark  over  his 
shoulder  when  he  was  annoyed  at  a  change  in  the 


78  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

vegetation.  But  Laura  knew  that  her  father  thought 
much  of  this  March  pleasure,  and  this  year,  too,  she 
went  with  her  mother  behind  him  to  a  solitary  village, 
where  Mr.  Hummel  smoked  his  pipe,  fed  the  hens, 
scolded  the  waiter,  and  talked  with  the  landlord  about 
the  crops  and  gave  the  sun  an  opportunity  of  rejoicing 
in  the  healthy  appearance  of  his  old  friend,  Mr.  Hum- 
mel. Mr.  Hummel,  who  was  usually  by  no  means 
averse  to  society,  loved  now  to  be  alone  with  nature, 
and  hated  the  place  of  resort  of  the  citizens  in  the 
country,  where  the  aroma  of  new  cakes  and  fritters 
destroyed  the  perfume  of  nature. 

When  he  entered  the  coffee-garden  with  his  ladies, 
he  saw  with  dissatisfaction  that  other  guests  were 
already  there.  He  threw  an  indignant  glance  on  the 
gay  society  which  had  taken  possession  of  his  usual 
place,  and  noticed  among  them  the  young  actress,  as 
well  as  other  members  of  the  theatre,  and  with  them 
the  son  of  his  adversary.  Then  he  turned  to  his 
daughter  and  said,  blinking  his  eyes: 

"To-day  you  will  be  well  satisfied;  here  you  have, 
besides  the  enjoyments  of  nature,  those  of  art." 

It  was  a  terribly  hard  trial  to  which  Laura's 
courage  was  subjected;  but  she  raised  her  head 
proudly,  and  passed  with  her  parents  to  another  cor- 
ner of  the  garden.  There  she  placed  herself  with  her 
back  to  the  strangers.  Nevertheless,  she  learnt  more 
of  their  proceedings  than  was  good  for  her  composure. 
She  heard  the  sounds  of  laughter,  and  the  merry  hum 
of  the  May-bug  party;  the  less  she  saw  of  them  the 
more  painful  was  the  noise,  and  every  sound  was 
audible  in  the  deep  stillness,  and  her  mother's  ears 
and  eyes  also  were  intent  on  the  other  party.  After  a 
time  the  loud  conversation  of  the  artists  ceased,  and 


PHILOPENA.  70, 

she  heard  her  name  spoken  in  low  terms.  Immedi- 
ately afterwards  the  gravel  crunched  behind  her,  and 
she  felt  that  the  Doctor  was  behind  her. 

He  approached  the  table,  greeted  the  father  si- 
lently, made  some  friendly  remarks  to  the  mother 
about  the  weather,  and  was  just  on  the  point  of  turn- 
ing to  Laura  with  a  forced  composure  that  did  not  es- 
cape her,  when  Mr.  Hummel,  who  had  till  then  si- 
lently borne  the  intrusion  of  the  enemy,  took  his  pipe 
from  his  mouth,  and  began,  with  gentle  voice: 

"Is  what  I  hear  of  you  possible,  Doctor? — that  you 
wish  to  change  your  mode  of  life?" 

Laura  plunged  her  parasol  vehemently  into  the 
gravel. 

"I  know  nothing  of  it,"  replied  the  Doctor,  coolly. 

"It  is  reported,"  continued  Mr.  Hummel,  "that 
you  intend  to  say  farewell  to  your  books  and  become 
a  professional  actor.  If  this  should  be  the  case,  I  beg 
of  you  to  think  kindly  of  my  little  business.  I  have 
every  kind  of  artistic  head-gear:  for  lovers  fine  beaver, 
with  galoon  for  lackeys,  and  if  ever  you  act  the  punch- 
inello,  a  white  felt  haj:.  But  you  would  rather  be 
called  clown,  perhaps.  That  is  now  the  fashionable 
role;  buffoons  are  out  of  style;  one  shall  address  you 
as  Sir  Clown." 

"I  have  no  intention  of  going  on  the  stage,  replied 
the  Doctor;  "but  if  ever  the  idea  should  occur  to  me, 
I  would  not  come  to  you  for  the  artistic  work  of  your 
manufactory,  but  for  instruction  in  what  you  consider 
good  manners.  I  should -then  at  least  know  what, 
in  my  profession,  was  not  befitting  men  of  breeding." 

He  bowed  to  the  ladies,  and  went  away. 

"Always  Humboldt,"  said  Mr.  Hummel,  looking 
after  him. 


80  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

Laura  did  not  move,  but  her  dark  eyebrows  were 
knit  so  threateningly  that  Mr.  Hummel  could  not  help 
perceiving  it. 

"I  am  quite  of  your  opinion,"  he  said,  pleasantly, 
to  his  daughter.  "It  is  a  great  pity  that  he  is  spoilt 
by  belonging  to  these  straw-hat  people,  but  now  there 
is  no  hope  for  him." 

He  then  took  a  bit  of  cake  and  offered  it  to  a  little 
poodle  that  was  sitting  on  its  hind  legs,  begging  and 
moving  its  paws. 

"Billy!"  cried   a  lady's  voice  through  the  garden. 

The  dog  Billy,  however,  did  not  attend,  but  contin- 
ued to  show  his  devotion  to  Mr.  Hummel,  who,  hav- 
ing a  greater  tenderness  for  dogs  than  for  men,  was 
feeding  him. 

The  actress  came  up  hastily. 

"  I  beg  of  you  not  to  give  the  naughty  animal  any 
cake, — there  are  almonds  in  it,"  said  the  actress, 
pushing  the  dog  away. 

"A  pretty  dog,"  replied  Mr.  Hummel,  sitting 
down. 

"If  you  only  knew  how  clever  he  was,"  said  the 
lady;  "he  knows  all  kinds  of  tricks.  Show  the  gentle- 
man what  you  have  learnt,  Billy." 

She  held  her  parasol  out:  Billy  sprang  lightly  over 
it,  and  bounded  into  the  lap  of  Mr.  Hummel,  where  he 
wagged  his  tail  and  attempted  to  lick  the  friendly 
gentleman's  face. 

"He  wants  to  kiss  you,"  said  the  actress.  "You 
should  be  proud  of  that,  for  he  does  not  do  it  to  every 
one." 

"It  is  not  every  one  who  would  like  it,"  replied 
Mr.  Hummel,  stroking  the  little  fellow. 


PHILOPENA.  8 1 

"Do  not  be  troublesome  to  the  gentleman,  Billy," 
said  the  lady,  reprovingly. 

Mr.  Hummel  arose  and  presented  the  dog  to  her, 
which  would  not  desist  from  his  attempts  to  kiss  and 
lick  the  face  of  the  worthy  citizen. 

"He  is  a  simple-hearted  creature,"  said  Mr.  Hum- 
mel, "and  is  the  same  color  as  my  dog  Spitehahn." 

The  actress  fondled  the  dog  in  her  arms. 

"The  rogue  is  very  much  spoilt;  he  creeps  into  my 
muff  when  I  go  to  the  theatre,  and  I  am  obliged  to 
take  him  with  me.  I  was  lately  frightened  to  death 
on  his  account;  for  once,  while  I  was  lamenting  as 
Clara  among  the  citizens,  Billy  had  run  out  of  the 
green-room  and,  standing  between  the  curtains,  began 
to  wag  his  tail  and  caper  about  on  his  hind  legs." 

"That  must  have  been  very  pathetic,"  said  Mrs. 
Hummel. 

"  I  moved  about  more  than  usual,"  replied  the  act- 
ress, "  and  at  every  turn  in  the  scene  I  had  to  call  out, 
'Lie  down,  Billy.'  " 

"Excellent,"  nodded  Mr.  Hummel;  "always  pres- 
ence of  mind." 

"  To-day  I  am  thankful  to  the  naughty  little  crea- 
ture, though,"  continued  the  actress,  "  for  he  has  af- 
forded me  the  opportunity  of  making  the  acquaintance 
of  my  neighbors.  Mr.  Hummel,  I  believe?" 

Mr.  Hummel  bowed  awkwardly.  The  actress  turned 
to  the  ladies  with  a  bow,  and  the  latter  answered  her 
greeting  silently. 

There  was  much  in  the  lady  that  pleased  Mr.  Hum- 
mel. She  was  pretty,  had  a  gay  and  cheerful  counte- 
nance, and  wore  something  on  her  bonnet  with  which 
he  was  personally  acquainted.  He  therefore  moved  a 
chair  towards  her  and  said,  with  another  bow : 


82  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

"Will  you  not  have  the  kindness  to  take  a  seat  ?" 

The  actress  bowed  in  accepting  it,  and,  turning  to 
Laura,  said: 

"  I  rejoice  to  be  able  to  approach  you  at  last.  You 
are  no  stranger  to  me,  and  you  have  often  given  me 
great  pleasure,  and  I  am  glad  to  be  able  to-day  to 
thank  you  for  it." 

"Where  was  it?  "  asked  Laura,  embarassed. 

"  Where  you  would  certainly  never  have  thought  of 
it,"  replied  the  other.  "  I  have  keen  eyes,  and  over 
the  footlights  I  observe  the  face  of  every  spectator. 
You  cannot  imagine  how  painful  that  is  to  me  some- 
times. As  you  are  always  in  the  same  seat,  it  has 
often  been  a  great  pleasure  to  me  to  rest  my  eyes  on 
your  features  and  observe  their  interested  expression; 
and  more  than  once,  without  your  knowing  it,  I  have 
acted  for  you  alone." 

"Ha!"  thought  Laura,  "it  is  Venus."  But  she 
felt  a  chord  had  been  struck  which  gave  out  a  pure 
tone.  She  told  the  actress  how  unwillingly  she  missed 
any  of  the  plays  in  which  she  acted,  and  that  in  their 
house  the  first  question,  when  they  received  the  new 
bill  of  the  play,  was  whether  the  lady  was  going  to 
act." 

This  gave  the  mother  an  opportunity  of  entering 
into  the  conversation.  The  actress  spoke  warmly  of 
the  kindness  with  which  she  had  everywhere  been  re- 
ceived. "  For  the  greatest  charm  of  our  art  is  the 
secret  friends  that  we  gain  by  our  acting — people 
whom  otherwise  one  perhaps  never  sees,  whose  names 
one  does  not  know,  yet  who  take  an  interest  in  our 
life.  Then,  if  by  accident  one  becomes  acquainted 
with  these  kindly  strangers,  it  is  a  rich  compensation 
for  all  the  sufferings  of  our  vocation,  among  which  the 


PHILOPENA.  83 

intrusive  homage  of  common  persons  is  perhaps  the 
greatest." 

It  was  clear  she  could  not  reckon  the  homage  of 
the  Doctor  among  these  sufferings. 

While  the  ladies  were  thus  talking  together,  and 
Mr.  Hummel  listened  with  approbation,  some  gentle- 
men approached  the  table.  Mrs.  Hummel  politely 
greeted  the  second  tenor,  who  had  once  sung  for  her  at 
the  godmother's  house,  and  the  worthy  father  of  the 
stage,  who  knew  Mr.  Hummel:  at  the  club,  began  a 
conversation  with  him  concerning  the  building  of  a 
new  theatre.  On  this  subject  Mr.  Hummel  had,  as  a 
citizen,  a  very  decided  opinion,  in  which  the  worthy 
father  quite  agreed. 

In  this  way  the  two  parties  mingled  together,  and 
the  table  of  Mr.  Hummel  became  a  centre  round 
which  the  children  of  Thalia  thronged.  While  the 
actress  was  talking  with  Mrs.  Hummel  in  a  very  cred- 
itable and  domestic  manner  of  the  inconveniences  of 
her  dwelling,  Laura  glanced  at  the  Doctor.  He  was 
standing  some  steps  from  the  party,  leaning  against  a 
tree,  looking  thoughtfully  before  him.  Laura  suddenly 
moved  towards  him,  and  began  speaking  rapidly:  "My 
father  has  offended  you.  I  beg  your  forgiveness." 

The  Doctor  looked  up.  "It  does  not  pain  me," 
said  he,  kindly;  "I  know  his  way." 

"I  have  talked  to  her,"  continued  Laura,  with 
trembling  voice;  "she  is  clever  and  amiable,  and  has 
an  irresistible  charm  of  manner." 

"Who?"  asked  the  Doctor;  "the  actress?" 

"Do  not  attempt  concealment  with  me,"  continued 
Laura;  "that  is  unnecessary  between  us;  there  is  no 
one  on  earth  who  wishes  for  your  happiness  more 
than  I  do.  You  need  not  trouble  yourself  about  others 


84  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

shaking  their  heads;  if  you  are  sure  of  the  love  of  the 
lady,  all  the  rest  is  a  secondary  consideration." 

The  Doctor  became  more  and  more  astonished. 
"  But  I  do  not  wish  to  marry  the  lady." 

"  Do  not  deny  it,  Fritz  Hahn;  that  ill  becomes 
your  truthful  nature,"  rejoined  Laura  passionately; 
"  I  see  how  well  the  lady  suits  you.  Since  I  have  seen 
her,  I  feel  convinced  that  she  is  capable  of  appreciat- 
ing all  that  is  good  and  great.  Do  not  hesitate,  but 
venture  courageously  to  seek  her  heart.  Yet  I  am 
so  troubled  about  you,  Fritz.  Your  feelings  are  warm 
and  your  judgment  sound,  but  you  cling  too  firmly  to 
that  which  surrounds  you.  I  tremble,  therefore,  lest 
you  should  make  yourself  unhappy  by  not  deciding  at 
the  right  moment  upon  a  course  which  will  appear 
strange  to  your  family.  I  know  you  from  my  early 
childhood,  and  I  am  sure  that  your  danger  always  has 
been  to  forget  yourself  for  others.  You  might  pass  a 
self-sacrificing  existence,  which  I  cannot  bear  to  think 
of.  For  I  desire  that  all  happiness  should  be  your 
portion,  as  your  upright  heart  deserves."  Tears  coursed 
down  her  cheeks,  as  she  looked  lovingly  upon  him. 

Every  word  that  she  spoke  sounded  to  the  Doctor 
like  the  trilling  of  a  lark  and  the  chirrup  of  the  cricket. 
He  spoke  softly  to  her:  "  I  do  not  love  the  lady;  I 
have  never  thought  of  uniting  her  future  with  mine." 

Laura  drew  back,  and  a  bright  color  suffused  her 
face. 

"  It  is  a  passing  acquaintance,  nothing  more  either 
for  her  or  me;  her  life  belongs  to  art,  and  can  hardly 
adapt  itself  to  quiet  domestic  habits.  If  I  could  ven- 
ture to  seek  a  heart  for  myself,  it  would  not  be  hers, 
but  that  of  another."  He  looked  towards  the  table, 
from  whence  at  that  moment  there  came  a  loud  laugh, 


PHILOPENA.  85 

evidently  of  Mr.  Hummel,  and  spoke  the  last  words 
so  low  that  they  scarcely  reached  Laura's  ear,  and  he 
looked  sorrowfully  down  on  the  buds  of  the  elderbush 
in  which  the  young  blossoms  still  lay  hidden. 

Laura  stood  motionless,  as  if  touched  by  the  wand 
of  a  magician,  but  the  tears  still  continued  to  flow 
down  her  cheeks.  She  came  very  near  touching  to 
her  lips  the  cherry  of  her  philopena  legend. 

Then  the  merry  cockchafers  hummed  round  her, 
the  actress  nodded  smilingly  to  her,  and  her  father 
called  her: — the  fairy  tale  was  at  an  end.  Laura  heard 
the  actress  say  triumphantly  to  the  Doctor,  "He  of- 
fered me  a  chair,  he  is  no  growling  bear  after  all.  And 
he  was  so  kind  to  Billy." 

When  Fritz  returned  home,  he  threw  off  his  hat 
and  overcoat,  rushed  to  his  writing-table,  and  took  up 
the  little  letters  in  the  unknown  hand.  "  It  is  she," 
he  cried,  aloud,  "fool  that  I  was  to  doubt  it  for  one 
moment."  He  read  all  the  letters  again,  and  nodded 
at  each.  It  was  his  own  high-minded,  noble  maiden 
who  had  before  disguised  herself,  now  she  had  shown 
herself  to  him  as  she  really  was.  He  waited  impa- 
tiently for  the  hour  when  he  should  meet  her  at  their 
friend's.  She  entered  late,  greeted  him  quietly,  and 
was  more  silent  and  gentle  than  usual.  When  she 
turned  to  him  she  spoke  seriously,  as  to  a  trusted 
friend.  Her  quiet  composure  became  her  well.  Now 
she  showed  herself  to  him  as  she  was,  a  refined  mind 
full  of  true  enthusiasm.  Prudery  and  sportive  moods 
had  only  been  the  shell  that  had  concealed  the 
sweet  kernel.  The  unassumed  caution,  too,  with 
which  she  concealed  her  feelings  among  her  friends, 
delighted  him.  When  the  next  ballad  should  come, 
then  she  would  speak  to  him  as  she  felt,  or  she  would 


86  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

give  him  permission  to  write  openly  to  her.  The  next 
morning  the  Doctor  counted  the  minutes  till  the  ar- 
rival of  the  postman.  He  tore  open  the  door  and 
hastened  to  meet  the  man.  Fritz  received  a  letter,  he 
broke  the.  cover  impatiently,  there  was  not  a  line 
from  his  correspondent ;  he  unfolded  the  old  printed 
sheet,  and  read  the  words  of  a  coarse  bacchanalian 
ditty  : 

"  On  the  spit  with  ox  and  pig, 
Clear  the  green  for  reel  and  jig, 
Wine  and  rhyme  and  wassail-shout, 
Pass  the  flowing  bowl  about  !  " 

So  the  honest,  simple-minded  Doctor  asked  again  : 
Is  it  she  ?  or  is  it  possible  that  it  is  not  ? 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 
AMONG    THE    STUDENTS. 

ANY  one  who  would  know  the  Professor  at  his  best 
should  see  him  sitting  surrounded  by  his  students,  the 
mature  man  amidst  blossoming  youth,  the  teacher 
among  his  admiring  scholars.  For  the  greatest  priv- 
ilege of  the  academical  teacher  is,  that  he  not  only 
exercises  a  personal  influence  on  the  present,  but  en- 
nobles the  souls  of  men  in  later  generations  by  his 
knowledge.  Out  of  the  many  who  listen  to  lectures 
a  chosen  circle  attaches  itself  to  the  learned  man,  the 
tie  of  personal  intercourse  connects  the  teacher  and 
the  scholar,  lightly  formed  but  lasting ;  for  what  at- 
tracts one  to  the  other,  and  often  makes  the  stranger 
after  a  few  hours  an  intimate  friend,  is  the  pleasant 
consciousness  that  both  value  and  appreciate  the  same 
thing. 


AMONG   THE    STUDENTS.  87 

This  bond,  so  charming  and  profitable  for  both 
parties,  is  the  noble  poetry  which  learning  grants  to 
its  votaries.  Strangers  and  men  of  later  generations 
judge  the  value  of  a  man  only  by  his  books,  but  how- 
ever valuable  may  be  the  products  of  a  man's  mind 
thus  transmitted,  it  gives  but  an  imperfect  picture  of 
it  to  later  times;  far  different  does  the  living  source 
work  in  the  souls  of  those  who  receive  knowledge 
from  the  lips  and  eyes  of  the  teacher.  They  are  taught, 
not  only  by  the  substance  of  his  instructions,  but  still 
more  by  his  method  of.investigating  and  expounding, 
and,  most  of  all,  by  his  character  and  the  original  style 
of  his  discourse.  For  these  warm  the  hearts  of  his 
hearers,  charm  their  minds,  and  inspire  them  with 
respect.  Such  an  impression  of  the  human  mind, 
which  leaves  its  traces  on  many,  is  often  more  im- 
portant in  forming  the  character  of  young  men  than 
the  subject-matter  of  the  instruction  they  have  re- 
ceived. The  character  of  the  teacher  works  in  the 
scholars;  new  life  is  infused  into  them,  and  they  im- 
bibe not  only  his  excellencies,  but  also,  sometimes,  his 
peculiarities  and  weaknesses.  In  each  hearer  the  char- 
acteristics of  the  master  assume  a  different  aspect,  yet 
in  each  the  influence  of  his  mind  is  apparent,  even  in 
minute  particulars.  The  lessons  which  Felix  gave  to 
his  wife  were  not  the  only  ones  given  in  his  house. 
One  evening  of  every  week  belonged  to  his  students. 
There  came,  first,  a  few  who  wished  to  ask  questions 
and  obtain  information  about  their  work;  afterwards,  a 
greaternumber  assembled.  Use's  room  was  also  opened, 
and  Gabriel  brought  tea  and  simple  fare,  and  an 
hour  passed  in  easy  conversation,  till,  at  last,  the  most 
intimate  withdrew  into  the  study  of  their  teacher,  and 
clustered  around  him  in  numbers  almost  too  great  for 


88  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

the  narrow  room.  Here,  also,  the  conversation  was 
varied;  sometimes  a  humorous  account  of  what  they 
had  experienced,  or  discussions  in  which  the  Professor 
knew  how  to  make  his  young  friends  take  an  active 
part,  and,  interspersed  with  these,  rapid  criticisms  upon 
men  and  books,  pointed  remark  and  quick  retort, 
such  as  are  natural  to  those  who  can  recognize  long 
melodies  by  a  few  tones.  At  these  receptions  Felix 
disclosed  his  inmost  soul  with  an  openness  that  he 
never  showed  in  the  lecture-room.  He  spoke  of  him- 
self and  others  without  reserve,  and  entered  pleas- 
antly on  what  he  had  most  at  heart. 

Use  was  no  stranger  at  these  gatherings.  Those 
who  assisted  in  them,  whether  serious  men,  old  stu- 
dents, or  young  doctors,  found  pleasure  in  the  pres- 
ence of  the  distinguished  lady  of  the  house,  who,  in 
her  simple  way,  took  part  in  their  intercourse.  The 
year  before  she  had  shown  her  intimacy  with  the  Odys- 
sey, when  she  summoned  the  gentlemen  to  the  enjoy- 
ment of  a  leg  of  wild  boar,  and  expressed  the  benev- 
olent wish  that  they  would  not  disdain  to  partake  of 
the  meal.  After  that  she  was  called  Penelope  in  the 
circle,  and  she  knew  that  this  nickname  spread  among 
the  students  beyond  the  walls  of  her  house. 

Use  had  her  favorites  among  the  young  men.  Of 
this  number  was  a  worthy  student,  not  the  most  dis- 
tinguished, but  one  of  the  most  industrious  of  the 
Professor's  scholars.  He  was  a  countryman  of  hers 
and  had  been  the  first  to  show  her  that  students  had 
tender  feelings  in  their  breasts.  This  student  had, 
during  the  last  year,  worked  successfully  in  filling  his 
intellectual  vacuum  with  collegiate  knowledge.  His 
lyrics  he  had  almost  given  up;  for  when  the  Professor 
sent  him  back  his  poems,  he  had  felt  remorse  and  hum- 


AMONG    THE    STUDENTS.  89* 

bly  begged  pardon.  Since  that,  having  obtained  a  good 
scholarship  through  Felix,  he  took  a  less  misanthropic 
view  of  domestic  affairs;  he  proved  himself  a  faith- 
ful and  attached  companion,  and  now  bore  the 
honorable  title  of  Doctorandus,  which,  according  to 
our  grammarians,  signifies  a  man  who  is  about  to  be 
a  doctor;  he  had  also  attained  a  certain  degree  of  rec- 
ognition among  the  students;  he  filled  a  position  of 
honor  in  the  great  Arminia  corps,  always  wore  their  col- 
ors on  his  cap,  and  was  ranked  among  the  privileged 
seniors  of  the  society  who,  on  drinking  evenings,  were 
exempted  from  the  heavier  obligations  of  conviviality, 
and  filled  up  by  serious  conversation  the  pauses  in 
which  the  stormy  youths  took  breath. 

On  one  of  these  evenings  the  conversation  took  a 
learned  turn  even  before  the  party  had  retreated  from 
Use's  apartment  to  the  study.  An  interesting  manu- 
script had  been  found  in  a  distant  library  in  South 
Germany.  There  was  much  talk  about  the  discovery 
and  the  editor,  and  Felix  recounted  with  satisfaction 
to  some  of  his  select  circle  all  the  similar  discoveries 
which  had  been  made  during  the  last  twenty  years. 
Then  our  student,  who  had  just  received  a  cup  of  tea 
from  Use,  and  was  stirring  it  with  his  spoon,  said,  in 
evident  ignorance  of  the  storm  that  was  lowering: 
"May  there  not  be  many  things  still  undiscovered  in 
the  neighborhood?  In  my  town  there  is  an  old  chest, 
which  contains  books  and  papers  from  the  monastery 
at  Rossau.  It  is  not  impossible  that  there  may  be 
something  valuable  there." 

Thus  spoke  the  student,  stirring  his  spoon,  like  a 
boy  who  applies  a  burning  match  to  a  bombshell. 

The  Professor  started  from  his  chair,  and  cast  such 
a  flaming  glance  at  the  student  that  in  fright  he 


go  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

quickly  set  down  his  cup  of  tea  in  order  not  to  spill  it. 
"Where  is  the  chest?"  said  the  Professor. 

"Where  is  it?  I  do  not  know,"  replied  the  student 
surprised.  "  I  was  told  of  it,  some  years  ago,  by  a 
countryman  of  mine,  who  was  born  in  the  district  of 
Rossau  " — the  student  mentioned  the  name,  and  Use 
knew  the  family — "  but  it  must  be  in  our  county,  for 
he  lived  there  as  tutor  in  several  places." 

"  Was  he  a  philologist?"  asked  an  older  scholar,  as 
eager  as  the  Professor. 

"He  was  a  theologian,"  replied  our  student. 

A  murmur  of  regret  passed  through  the  room. 

"  Then  the  account  is  still  very  uncertain,"  con- 
cluded the  critic. 

"  Did  the  man  see  the  chest  himself  ?"  asked  the 
Professor. 

"  I  am  not  certain  of  that,  either,"  replied  the  stu- 
dent. "  I  did  not  then  know  the  importance  that  at- 
tached to  the  communication.  But,  I  think,  he  must 
have  seen  it  himself,  for  I  remember  he  said  it  was 
thickly  plated  with  iron." 

"  Unfortunate  man!  You  must  do  your  utmost  to 
procure  us  information  about  this  chest,"  cried  the 
Professor.  He  paced  impatiently  up  and  down  the 
room,  the  students  making  way  for  him  respectfully. 
"  Your  communication  is  of  more  importance  than  I 
can  now  tell  you,"  began  the  Professor,  stopping  be- 
fore the  student.  "  Endeavor,  in  the  first  place,  to 
recall  what  you  have  heard  about  it.  Did  your  ac- 
quaintance ever  see  the  chest  open?" 

"  When  I  come  to  think  of  it,"  replied  the  student, 
"  I  believe  that  he  saw  some  old  monastic  relics  lying 
in  it." 


AMONG    THE    STUDENTS.  gi 

"  Then  it  was  no  longer  closed?"  inquired  the  Pro- 
fessor. "  And  where  is  your  friend,  now?" 

"  He  went  to  America  last  year  with  a  brewer's 
daughter.  I  do  not  know  where  he  now  resides,  but 
it  may  be  ascertained  from  his  relations." 

Again  a  murmur  of  vexation  passed  through  the 
room. 

"  Endeavor  to  discover  the  residence  of  the  man; 
write  to  him,  and  ask  for  accurate  information,"  ex- 
claimed the  Professor;  "you  can  do  me  no  greater 
service." 

The  student  promised  to  do  all  in  the  power  of 
man.  When  the  party  broke  up  Gabriel  communi- 
cated to  the  student  a  secret  invitation  to  dinner  on 
the  following  day.  Use  knew  that  it  would  be  agree- 
able to  Felix  to  have  the  company  of  one  who  had 
even  an  acquaintance  who  had  seen  the  chest  that 
contained  the  books  of  Rossau,  among  which,  it  was 
possible,  the  manuscript  of  Tacitus  might  lie,  pro- 
vided it  was  not  somewhere  else. 

She,  however,  did  not  hear  with  any  satisfaction 
of  the  secret  chest,  for  Use  was,  alas!  incredulous  in 
the  matter  of  the  manuscript.  She  had  sometimes 
vexed  her  husband  by  her  indifference  on  the  subject, 
and,  after  the  unfortunate  Struvelius  episode,  avoided 
every  mention  of  the  lost  treasure.  She  had,  besides, 
special  reasons  for  it.  She  knew  how  much  every 
thought  and  discussion  concerning  it  excited  Felix. 
He  always  became  agitated,  and  his  eyes  shone  as  in 
fever.  It  is  true  he  controlled  himself  after  a  few  min- 
utes, and  laughed  at  his  own  fervor;  but  these  out- 
breaks of  latent  ardor  were  not  agreeable  to  his  wife, 
for  she  saw  by  these  sudden  flashings  that  the  thought 
of  the  manuscript  still  fretted  the  soul  of  her  dear 


Q2  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

husband,  and  suspected  that  in  secret  he  often  dreamt 
of  it,  and  entertained  secret  designs  against  the  walls 
of  her  father's  house. 

Our  student  had  now  aroused  the  storm.  Later, 
the  doctor  was  called  in  and  there  was  a  long  discus- 
sion and  dispute.  Use  was  glad  that  the  doctor  did 
not  attach  much  importance  to  the  chest,  and  by  sen- 
sible suggestions  brought  the  Professor  at  last  to  make 
humorous  remarks  upon  his  own  eagerness. 

When,  on  the  following  day  at  dinner,  the  student 
produced  the  letter  he  had  written  in  proof  of  his 
zeal,  the  Professor  treated  the  matter  with  more  com- 
posure. "  It  is  an  uncertain  account,"  he  said,  "  even 
if  the  relator  tells  the  truth;  he  may  be  in  error  con- 
cerning the  particulars,  or  even  the  name  of  the  mon- 
astery." When,  afterwards,  information  came  from  the 
house  of  the  student  that  the  theologian  had  settled 
somewhere  in  Wisconsin  as  an  apothecary,  and  that 
the  student's  letter  had  been  sent  to  an  uncertain  ad- 
dress in  a  distant  country,  the  whirlpool  which  the 
mention  of  the  chest  had  provoked  had  subsided  to 
peaceful  ripples. 

The  greatest  advantage  consequent  upon  this  epi- 
sode came  to  our  student;  for  the  Professor  imparted 
the  account  to  the  Chamberlain,  and  pointed  out  to 
him  that  in  this  chest  there  might  be  things  of  very 
great  value.  The  Chamberlain  had  several  years  be- 
fore held  the  post  of  castellan,  and  was  well  acquainted 
with  all  the  relics  of  his  sovereign's  castles,  and  was 
aware  that  there  was  nothing  of  that  kind  to  be  found 
in  any  of  them;  but  as  the  student  appeared  to  him  to 
be  a  favorite  of  the  family,  he  took  kindly  notice  of 
the  young  man,  and  offered  to  present  him  as  a  fellow- 
countryman  to  the  Hereditary  Prince.  This  was  done. 


AMONG    THE    STUDENTS.  93 

The  consequence  of  the  introduction  was  that  our  stu- 
dent was  invited  one  evening  on  which  the  Prince  re- 
ceived other  academical  acquaintances. 

It  was  an  anxious  evening  for  the  student,  and  the 
Arminian  had  various  reasons  to  be  mistrustful.  For, 
this  year,  there  had  been  violent  storms  among  the 
students.  It  was  the  quarrel  between  the  corps  of 
Markomanns  and  the  Society  of  Arminians  that  had 
raised  the  tempest.  The  recent  cause  of  the  storm 
was  curious  and  instructive  to  those  who  watch  the 
secret  links  of  earthly  events.  The  discord  which  had 
sundered  the  professors  who  were  the  representatives 
of  ancient  learning,  the  struggle  between  Werner  and 
Struvelius,  had  not  at  the  time  much  excited  the  aca- 
demic youth.  But,  shortly  afterwards,  a  song  had 
come  forth  among  the  students,  in  which  the  advent- 
ure of  Struvelius  was  treated  disrespectfully.  This 
song  was  a  weak  production;  it  was  in  the  form  of  a 
ballad,  and  adorned  with  a  refrain  to  this  effect: 

"  Struvelius,  Struvelius, 
Come  out  here  with  your  Fidibus; 
Who  burns  himself  will  have  a  fuss." 

The  author  was  never  discovered.  But  when  one  con- 
siders that  this  song,  so  far  as  could  be  perceived 
from  its  ludicrous  style,  was  averse  to  Struvelius  and 
in  honor  of  Werner,  and  further,  that  it  first  appeared 
among  the  Arminians,  and  that  among  these  children 
of  Arminius  was  one  who  had  cherished  lyrical  tenden- 
cies in  the  past;  that  this  one  belonged  to  Werner's  cir- 
cle, and  that  in  this  circle  the  parchment  had  upon 
several  occasions  been  contemptuously  treated  as  a 
fidibus,  one  cannot  suppress  the  cautious  supposi- 
tion that  our  student  had  degraded  his  departing  muse 
by  this  miserable  performance. 


94  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

This  frivolous  song  had  become  popular  with  the 
Arminians;  its  refrain  was  heard  in  the  streets  some- 
times in  the  quiet  night;  it  was  very  vexatious  to  the 
Professor,  and  not  less  so  to  Werner's  tea  party,  but 
it  could  not  be  put  down  by  force.  The  song  and  its 
origin  were  matters  of  indifference  to  the  Marko- 
manns  and  their  associates,  but  they  did  not  sing  it 
simply  because  it  was  modelled  upon  a  drinking  song 
of  the  Arminians.  About  the  time  that  Werner  en- 
tered upon  his  rectorate,  some  students  of  all  parties 
were  sitting  together  in  a  restaurant;  a  Markomann 
attempted  to  light  his  pipe  by  the  gas-flame,  and  a 
spark  burnt  the  ribbon  of  his  corps-colors;  whereupon 
some  of  the  Arminians  mockingly  sang  the  refrain. 
The  Markomanns  sprang  up  and  commanded  silence. 
Numerous  challenges  were  the  consequence.  But, 
unfortunately,  the  matter  did  not  rest  there.  A  num- 
ber of  Arminians  had  drawn  up  in  front  of  the  Marko- 
mann's  club-house,  and  had  openly  sung  the  tune  in  an 
insolent  manner  on  the  main  street;  it  led  to  disa- 
greeable conflicts  between  the  parties  and  the  city 
police,  and  investigations  and  punishments  were  the 
result.  Werner  himself  had,  in  private  conferences 
with  some  of  the  leaders,  done  what  he  could  to  sup- 
press the  unfortunate  song,  and  he  had  succeeded  in 
banishing  it  at  least  from  the  streets.  But  the  ill-will 
remained  in  their  hearts.  By  various  unfortunate  oc- 
currences it  became  clear  that  there  was  more  disunion 
and  discordant  feeling  among  the  students  than  usual. 

The  Arminian,as  he  hung  up  his  cap  in  the  Prince's 
ante-room  beside  the  smart  ones  of  the  great  Mark- 
omann leaders,  anxiously  revolved  all  this  in  his  mind. 
The  evening  passed  off  more  pleasantly  than  he  had 
expected.  In  the  august  chamber  the  Markomanns 


AMONG    THE    STUDENTS.  95 

observed  decorous  civility.  The  meeting  indeed  was 
of  some  importance;  for  this  was  just  the  time  when 
the  students  were  talking  about  holding  a  great  Com- 
mers* to  celebrate  the  anniversary  of  some  university 
event.  But,  as  often  happens  in  the  greater  affairs  of 
our  nation,  the  feast  was  in  danger  of  being  disturbed 
by  the  quarrel  between  the  clans.  Now,  while  the 
Arminian  was  drinking  punch  together  with  the  Mark- 
omanns,  the  Hereditary  Prince  expressed  the  desire 
to  participate  in  the  commemorative  Commers;  and 
Beppo,  the  leader  of  the  Markomanns,  explained  to 
the  Arminian  his  views  as  to  how  the  quarrel  might 
be  adjusted.  The  Arminian  offered  to  convey  this 
proposal  to  his  corps.  When  the  Chamberlain  hesi- 
tated as  to  the  participation  of  the  Hereditary  Prince 
in  the  Commers,  the  Arminian,  exhilarated  by  punch 
and  the  flow  of  conversation,  assured  him  that  his 
comrades  would  appreciate  the.  honor  done  to  their 
festival  by  the  presence  of  the  Hereditary  Prince. 

The  efforts  of  our  student  were  successful;  the 
hatchet  was  buried,  and  the  academic  youths  pre- 
pared for  a  festival  in  common.  A  large  hall,  richly 
ornamented  with  the  colors  of  all  the  associations 
that  took  part  in  the  Commers,  was  filled  with  long 
tables.  At  the  end  stood  the  presidents  in  festive  at- 
tire, with  their  rapiers.  On  the  chairs  sat  many  hun- 
dred students,  arranged  according  to  their  respective 
corps  and  clubs.  Among  the  Markomanns  were  the 
Prince  and  his  Chamberlain;  and  the  Prince  on  this 
occasion  wore  their  colors  in  honor  of  the  corps. 
The  full-toned  melody  of  the  songs,  accompanied  by 
stirring  music,  resounded  through  the  room;  it  was  a 

*A  festive  and  bibacious  celebration,  in  honor  of  some  prominent  person, 
or  commemoration  of  a  great  event. 


96  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

•goodly  sight  to  behold  so  many  young  men,  the  hope 
and  strength  of  the  rising  generation,  united  in  festive 
song,  according  to  the  old  customs  of  the  university. 
Hitherto  the  festival  had  passed  without  any  disturb- 
ance. The  Chamberlain,  remarking  that  cheeks  were 
beginning  to  glow,  and  the  songs  becoming  wilder,  so 
that  the  music  was  not  rapid  enough  for  the  beating 
of  the  academic  pulse,  advised  the  Prince  to  retire. 
The  Prince,  himself  excited  by  song  and  wine,  imme- 
diately rose;  before  him  walked  all  the  nobility  of  the 
Markomanns  to  clear  the  way  through  the  surging 
multitude.  They  were  obliged  to  push  through  the 
crowd,  who  had  risen  from  their  chairs  and  were  mov- 
ing about  in  confusion.  But  it  chanced  that  the  Prince 
was  cut  off  from  his  academical  attendants  and  bumped 
against  an  insolent  Arminian,  who,  emboldened  by 
wine  and  embittered  by  the  not  very  gentle  touch  of 
the  advancing  Prince,  would  not  make  way,  but  barred 
the  passage  intentionally  with  his  elbows,  and  coolly 
proceeded  to  puff  his  pipe  in  the  Prince's  face.  The 
Prince  was  inconsiderate  enough  to  push  the  Arminian 
roughly  aside  and  cry,  "You  are  an  impudent  fellow;" 
whereupon  the  Arminian  spoke  the  fatal  word,  of  which 
the  consequence,  according  to  academical  custom,  is 
either  a  duel  or  loss  of  honor  to  the  person  insulted. 
In  a  moment  he  was  surrounded  by  the  Markomanns. 
The  same  insulting  word  poured  like  hail  from  all  sides 
on  the  audacious  offender;  but  he  drew  out  his  card- 
case  mockingly,  and  called  out,  "One  after  another; 
let  the  whole  retinue  follow  suit;  like  master  like  man." 
When  the  throng  became  greater,  he  cried  out  to  those 
behind  him,  "This  way,  Arminians,"  and  began  in  loud 
bass  tones  the  battle-cry  of  his  corps: 

"  Struvelius,  Struvelius, 
Come  out  here  with  your  Fidibus." 


AMONG    THE    STUDENTS.  97 

The  tumult  spread  throughout  the  hall;  over  chairs  and 
tables  sprang  the  Arminians  to  the  aid  of  their  endan- 
gered champion;  the  words  of  insult  and  challenges 
flew  in  volleys  in  every  direction.  In  vain  did  the 
presidents  call  them  to  their  places;  in  vain  did  the 
music  interpose;  the  angry  cries  of  the  contending 
parties  could  be  heard  above  the  shrill  fanfare  of  the 
trumpet.  The  presidents  hastened  together,  and,  pass- 
ing along  in  close  array,  separated  the  contending 
parties.  But  the  wild  uproar  was  followed  by  violent 
discussions;  the  associations  stood  apart  from  each 
other;  separate  groups  jeered  at  one  another,  and,  ac- 
cording to  the  old  custom  of  academic  belligerents,  en- 
deavored gradually  to  drive  their  opponents  to  use 
the  word  of  challenge.  Some  provoking  expressions  had 
already  been  used  which  were  forbidden  by  the  social 
rules  of  the  University;  blades  were  glittering  in  the 
air,  and  more  than  one  hand  clenched  a  wine  bottle. 
The  music  struck  up  the  national  hymn,  but  it  was  un- 
timely, and  from  all  sides  came  the  angry  shout,  "Stop 
it!  stop  it!"  The  frightened  musicians  were  silenced, 
and  afresh  outbreak  of  the  tremendous  tumult  seemed 
inevitable,  when  an  old  leader  of  the  Teutons,  who 
knew  his  people  well,  sprang  up  into  the  orchestra, 
seized  a  fiddle,  seated  himself  in  a  chair  high  up  as 
director,  and  began  the  foolish  tune,  "Ach,  du  lie- 
ber  Augustin,  alles  ist  /tin."  The  music  began  in 
plaintive  tones.  Every  one  looked  up,  and  at  once 
noticed  the  eminent  gentleman  scraping  strenuously 
on  the  fiddle;  the  mood  of  all  was  suddenly  changed, 
and  a  general  laugh  arose.  The  presidents  struck 
their  blades  on  the  table  so  violently  that  more  than 
one  broke,  and  commanded  peace;  the  leaders  of  all 
the  associations  joined  together,  and  declared  the  Com- 


98  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

mers  to  be  concluded,  and  called  upon  the  clubs  and 
corps  to  return  peacefully  home,  as  they  intended  to 
take  the  affair  in  hand.  The  students  crowded  an- 
grily out  of  the  hall,  and  dispersed  to  their  respective 
head-quarters;  but  in  every  group  the  events  of  the 
evening  were  discussed  with  vehement  bitterness,  and 
embassies  passed  rapidly  from  one  camp  to  another 
throughout  the  night. 

The  Chamberlain  had  extricated  the  Prince  from 
the  throng  after  the  first  encounter.  The  latter  was 
sitting  in  his  room,  pale  and  dismayed  at  the  conse- 
quences likely  to  ensue  from  the  unfortunate  incident. 
The  Chamberlain  also  was  terrified,  for  the  respon 
sibility  of  this  fracas  would  fall  upon  his  head.  Be- 
sides this  he  felt  real  sympathy  for  the  young  Prince, 
who  so  deeply  felt  the  insult  to  his  honor,  and  who, 
with  a  fixed  and  saddened  gaze,  received  no  comfort 
from  the  assurance  that  his  princely  honor  could  suffer 
no  more  injury  from  these  plebeians  than  from  the 
sparrows  on  the  tree. 

After  a  sleepless  night  the  Prince  received  the 
leaders  of  the  Markomanns,  who  came  to  announce 
the  decision  of  their  corps.  They  stated  that  their 
senior  officer,  Beppo,  had  been  chosen  to  repre- 
sent the  Prince  in  all  further  dealings  with  the  Ar- 
minian,  and  he,  Beppo,  chivalrously  begged  him  to 
concede  to  him  this  honor;  he  added  that,  in  the  opin- 
ion of  his  association,  the  Arminian  had  no  claim  to 
the  privilege  of  receiving  a  challenge  in  consequence 
of  that  vile  insulting  word,  and  if  the  Prince  should 
refuse  any  further  participation  in  the  matter,  the 
Markomanns  would  take  all  the  consequences  on  them- 
selves. But  they  could  not  conceal  from  him  that 
they  alone  held  this  view,  nay,  even  some  of  their  own 


AMONG    THE    STUDENTS.  QQ 

corps  had  objected.  All  things,  therefore,  considered, 
they  thought  the  best  course  would  be  for  the  Prince 
to  make  this  concession — the  greatness  of  which  they 
undoubtedly  deeply  felt — to  the  academical  custom. 

The  Prince  had  not  yet  recovered  his  self-posses- 
sion, so  the  Chamberlain  begged  the  gentlemen  to  al- 
low his  Highness  some  hours  for  reflection. 

Meanwhile  our  student,  who  had  been  restrained 
by  the  consideration  of  his  academical  duties,  and  had 
kept  aloof  from  any  personal  implication,  in  great  per- 
plexity went  to  the  Doctor  with  this  news,  as  in  this 
affair  he  could  not  venture  before  the  Rector.  The 
Doctor  hastened  to  his  friend,  who  had  already  had 
an  account  from  the  beadles  and  the  police. 

"  As  regards  the  personal  conflict  of  the  Prince,  I 
have  as  yet  received  no  notice,  and  it  is  perhaps  de- 
sirable, both  for  him  and  the  University,  that  it  should 
not  be  entered  into.  I  shall  be  watchful  and  endeavor 
to  provide  against  further  consequences;  and  I  shall 
perform  the  duties  of  my  office  in  every  direction  in 
the  strictest  way;  but  do  your  best  to  prevent  my 
learning  any  details  of  this  affair,  except  what  may 
give  me  just  ground  for  taking  official  steps." 

The  Chamberlain  was  almost  in  a  similar  quandary 
as  our  student;  he  also  went  full  of  anxiety  to  the  Doc- 
tor, related  the  quarrel,  and  asked  what  the  Doctor 
considered  was  the  duty  of  the  Prince,  and  whether 
he  ought  to  allow  himself  to  be  represented  in  a  duel. 

The  Doctor  replied,  with  some  reserve:  "  Duels 
are  senseless  and  wrong!  If  the  Hereditary  Prince  is 
imbued  with  this  view,  and  is  willing  to  take  upon 
himself  the  consequences  to  his  own  life,  and  at  some 
future  day  to  his  government,  I  will  be  the  last  to  op- 
pose this  martyrdom.  But  if  your,  young  master  is  not 


IOO  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

free  from  the  prejudices  of  his  class,  and  has  been  im- 
pressed with  the  idea  that  there  is  a  certain  honor  for 
cavaliers  and  officers,  which  is  different  from  that  of  men 
of  honor  in  general,  and  which,  in  certain  cases,  makes  a 
duel  necessary,  if  your  Prince  is  going  to  decide  the 
question  upon  these  grounds,  and  in  future  govern  ac- 
cording to  such  views,  in  that  case  I  will  unreservedly 
acknowledge  that  I  cannot  allow  him  the  right  to  set 
himself  in  opposition  to  the  ideas  of  honor  of  our  aca- 
demical youths." 

"  Then  you  are  of  opinion,"  said  the  Chamberlain, 
"  that  the  Prince  must  consent  to  the  offer  of  a  repre- 
sentative?" 

"  I  have  neither  the  right  nor  the  wish  to  offer  an 
opinion,"  said  the  Doctor.  "  I  can  only  say  that  the 
idea  of  a  representative  does  not  please  me.  It  ap- 
pears to  me  that  the  affair  is  simple, — either  reason  or 
personal  courage." 

The  Chamberlain  rose  quickly.  "  That  is  quite  im- 
possible; it  would  be  an  unheard  of  deviation  from  cus- 
tom, and  would  produce  new  and  painful  complica- 
tions for  the  Prince;  it  is  also  entirely  contrary  to  my 
convictions  of  what  is  allowable  to  a  royal  prince,  and 
under  no  considerations  can  the  proposition  be  further 
entertained." 

The  Chamberlain  went  away  not  much  pleased 
with  the  radical  views  of  the  Doctor.  On  his  return 
home  he  said  to  the  Prince: 

"  The  affair  must  be  settled  quickly  before  your 
father  can  learn  of  it.  Your  father,  considering  the 
social  standing  of  your  opponent,  would  positively  pro- 
hibit any  concession  on  your  part;  and  yet  I  see  that 
the  future  intercourse  of  your  Highness  with  the  body  of 
the  students,  and  even  perhaps  other  personal  relations, 


AMONG    THE    STUDENTS.  IOI 

will  be  greatly  endangered  if  the  public  opinion  here 
is  not  in  some  measure  satisfied.  If,  therefore,  I  may 
counsel  your  Highness,  it  will  be  to  make  a  great  con- 
cession, and  accept  Herr  von  Hailing  as  your  repre- 
sentative." 

The  Prince  looked  down,  depressed,  and  finally 
said:  "That  will  perhaps  be  best." 

The  great  leader  Beppo,  one  of  the  best  swords- 
men of  the  University,  was  to  fight  for  the  Hereditary 
Prince.  But  now  it  appeared  that  the  Arminians  were 
by  no  means  satisfied  with  this  idea  of  a  representa- 
tive, and  raised  the  impudent  pretension  that  the 
Prince  should  himself  appear  before  them  in  fencing 
attire  and  cambric  shirt.  The  stout  Ulf,  for  instance, 
the  originator  of  the  whole  embroilment,  declared  that 
he  found  the  Markomann  leader  also  on  his  list,  and 
he  would  not  renounce  the  delightful  prospect  of  hav- 
ing a  pass  with  that  gentleman  in  his  private  capacity. 

This  could  not  be  denied.  Meanwhile  a  large  coun- 
cil of  seniors,  which  the  Markomanns  had  quickly 
called  together,  decided  that  a  substitute  should  be  al- 
lowed to  enter  the  lists  for  the  Prince.  On  the  other 
hand,  their  cunning  proposition  that  the  Arminian 
should  first  enter  the  lists  against  the  other  men  of  their 
corps,  was  declined.  They  wished  by  this  to  relieve 
the  Prince  of  the  whole  affair,  as  it  might  be  assumed 
that  even  the  great  strength  of  the  Arminian  would  be 
exhausted  before  half  the  names  on  his  list  were  can- 
celled. Nothing,  therefore,  remained  but  for  the  two 
combatants  to  fight  together  at  two  different  times, 
the  Markomann,  in  the  name  of  the  Prince,  first. 

"We  shall  do  our  best  to  make  the  second  meeting 
unnecessary,"  said  the  Markomann  significantly  to  the 


IO2  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

representative  of  the  Arminian,  on  the  breaking-up  of 
the  conference. 

Every  precaution  was  taken  to  keep  the  fatal  duel 
secret;  only  those  concerned  in  it  knew  the  hour:  even 
to  their  near  associates  another  day  was  spoken  of; 
for  the  beadles  were  watchful,  and  the  University  had 
been  called  upon  by  the  highest  authorities  to  avert 
further  consequences  by  all  means  in  their  power. 

The  day  before  the  duel,  the  Prince  invited  the 
Markomanns  to  dinner,  and  there  was  so  much  talk  upon 
relevant  matters  that  the  Chamberlain  felt  decidedly  un- 
comfortable. Shortly  before  the  breaking-up  of  the 
party,  the  Prince  was  standing  with  Beppo  in  a  recess 
of  the  window;  suddenly  he  seized  the  hand  of  the 
young  man,  held  it  fast,  and  his  frame  was  violently 
convulsed  with  suppressed  sobbing.  The  valiant  youth 
looked  at  the  Prince  much  moved. 

"All  will  go  well,  your  Highness,"  said  he,  consol- 
ingly. 

"For  you,  but  not  for  me,"  replied  the  Prince,  and 
turned  away. 

As  towards  evening  the  Hereditary  Prince  walked 
restlessly  through  the  rooms,  the  Chamberlain,  who 
also  wished  to  be  relieved  from  his  troubled  thoughts, 
proposed  that  they  should  that  evening  pay  a  visit  to 
the  Rector.  This  was  the  only  place  where  he  was  sure 
to  hear  nothing  of  the  disagreeable  history,  and  he  was 
sharp-sighted  enough  to  guess  that  this  visit  would  be 
particularly  agreeable  to  the  Prince. 

Use  knew  everything.  Our  student  friend,  who 
had  involuntarily  played  the  magpie,  creating  mischief 
between  the  parties,  still  haunted  the  neighborhood; 
he  ventured,  on  one  of  the  student  evenings,  to  re- 
main behind  with  Penelope  when  the  others  went  into 


AMONG    THE    STUDENTS.  103 

the  Rector's  room;  he  related  the  whole  quarrel,  de- 
scribed the  dangerous  position  of  the  Prince,  and 
begged  her  to  say  nothing  of  the  occurrence  to  her 
husband.  When,  therefore,  the  Prince  entered,  a  forced 
restraint  and  uneasiness  was  manifest  in  those  present. 
The  Chamberlain  was  more  charming  than  ever,  and 
related  agreeable  Court  stories,  but  without  effect. 
The  Prince  sat  embarrassed  in  his  place,  next  to  Use; 
he  felt  the  seriousness  of  even  her  friendly  words;  he 
saw  how  sorrowfully  her  eyes  rested  upon  him,  and  when 
they  met  his  he  turned  quickly  away.  At  last  he  be- 
gan, with  unsteady  voice: 

"You  once  showed  me  the  portraits  of  famous  men 
that  you  have;  may  I  ask  you  to  let  me  see  the  volume 
again?" 

Use  glanced  at  him  and  rose.  The  Prince  followed 
her,  as  before,  into  the  next  room.  She  laid  the  vol- 
ume before  him;  he  looked  over  it  without  interest, 
and  at  last  began,  in  a  low  tone: 

"  All  I  wished  was  to  be  alone  with  you.  I  am 
helpless  and  very  unhappy.  I  have  no  person  on  earth 
who  will  give  me  disinterested  advice  as  to  what  I 
shall  do.  I  have  given  offense  to  a  student,  and  have 
been  bitterly  insulted  by  him.  And  I  am  now  com- 
pelled to  allow  another  to  fight  out  the  quarrel  for 
me." 

"My  poor  Prince!"  cried  Use. 

"Do  not  speak  to  me  of  it,  gracious  lady,  with  the 
feelings  with  which  a  woman  would  regard  it,  but  speak, 
as  if  you  were  my  friend  in  advice.  That  I  should  burden 
you  with  my  troubles  makes  me  feel  at  this  moment 
contemptible  to  myself,  and  I  fear  I  seem  so  also  to 
you."  He  glanced  gloomily  down. 

Use  spoke  softly.     "  I  can  only  say  what  is  in  my 


104  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

heart;  if  your  Highness  has  done  an  injustice,  apolo- 
gize for  it;  if  you  have  been  insulted,  forgive  it." 

The  Prince  shook  his  head. 

"  That  would  be  of  no  use,  it  would  only  disgrace 
me  afresh  in  my  own  eyes,  and  those  of  all  others.  It 
was  not  on  that  point  that  I  ask  you.  Only  one  thing 
I  wish  to  know;  ought  I  to  allow  another  to  fight  my 
battle  because  I  am  a  prince?  All  say  that  I  must  do 
it;  but  I  have  no  confidence  in  any,  only  in  you." 

The  blood  mantled  in  Use's  face.  "  Your  High- 
ness lays  a  responsibility  upon  me  that  frightens  me." 

"  You  once  told  me  the  truth,"  said  the  Prince, 
gloomily,  "as  no  one  on  earth  has  yet  done,  and  every 
word  you  spoke  was  good  and  from  your  heart.  I 
therefore  now  pray  you  to  give  me  your  honest 
opinion." 

"Then,"  said  Use,  looking  at  him  eagerly,  while 
the  old  Saxon  blood  boiled  in  her  veins,  "if  your  High- 
ness began  the  quarrel,  you  must  end  it  yourself  like 
a  man,  and  you  must  yourself  take  care  that  it  is  done 
in  an  honorable  way.  Your  Highness  ought  not  to 
allow  another  to  brave  your  opponent  and  endanger 
himself  on  account  of  the  wrong  you  have  done.  To 
lead  a  stranger  to  wrong,  to  compel  another  to  risk 
his  life,  while  you  quietly  look  on,  would  be  worst 
of  all!" 

The  Prince  replied,  dejectedly: 

"  He  is  courageous,  and  superior  to  his  adversary." 

"And  does  your  Highness  think  it  right  to  take  ad- 
vantage of  your  opponent  by  the  powers  of  one  who 
is  stronger  than  yourself?  Whether  your  representa- 
tive wins  or  loses,  you  will  be  more  indebted  to  him 
than  you  ought  to  be  to  a  stranger;  and  through  your 


AMONG    THE    STUDENTS.  105 

whole  life  you  will  be  burdened  with  the  thought  that 
he  has  shown  courage,  while  you  have  not." 

The  Prince  became  pale  and  silent. 

"  I  feel  just  as  you  do,"  he  said,  at  last. 

"  Everything  of  this  kind  is  dreadful,"  continued 
Use,  wringing  her  hands;  "  everywhere  there  seems 
to  be  ill-will  and  thoughts  of  bloody  revenge.  But,  if 
it  is  impossible  for  you  to  prevent  a  wrong,  it  is  your 
duty  to  take  care  that  it  does  not  become  greater,  and 
that  its  consequences  do  not  fall  on  the  head  of  an- 
other, only  on  your  own.  My  heart  tells  me  that  you 
must  yourself  do,  if  not  what  is  right,  at  all  events  what 
is  least  wrong." 

The  Prince  nodded  his  head,  and  again  sat  silent. 

"  I  cannot  speak  of  it  to  those  about  me,"  he  be- 
gan, at  last,  "  least  of  all  to  him,"  pointing  to  the 
Chamberlain.  "  If  I  am  to  prevent  another  from 
fighting  in  my  stead,  it  must  be  done  immediately. 
Do  you  know  any  one  who  can  help  me?" 

"  My  husband's  office  forbids  his  doing  anything 
for  your  Highness  in  this  affair.  But  the  Doctor?" 

The  Prince  shook  his  head. 

"  Our  student,"  exclaimed  Use;  "he  is  truly  de- 
voted to  your  Highness:  he  is  a  countryman  of  ours, 
and  feels  greatly  troubled  about  this  matter." 

The  Prince  reflected. 

"Will  you  allow  me  to  have  the  use  of  your  ser- 
vant for  a  few  hours  this  evening,  when  you  no  longer 
need  him  yourself?" 

Use  called  Gabriel  into  the  room,  and  said  to  him: 

"Do  what  his  Highness  desires  of  you." 

The  Prince  approached  the  window,  and  spoke  in 
a  low  tone  to  the  servant. 


IO6  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

"Leave  everything  to  me,  your  Highness,"  said 
Gabriel,  as  he  went  back  to  his  tea-cups. 

The  Prince  approached  Use,  who  was  standing  mo- 
tionless, staring  at  the  book. 

"I  have  looked  over  the  portraits,"  he  said,  with 
more  composure  than  he  had  shown  during  the  whole 
evening,  "and  I  have  found  what  I  was  looking  for. 
I  thank  you." 

Use   rose,  and   returned  with  him  to  the  company. 

The  guests  had  left,  and  Use  was  sitting  alone  in 
her  room.  What  had  she  done?  Become  the  confidant 
of  a  man  implicated  in  a  bloody  deed,  the  secret  ad- 
viser of  a  lawless  action.  She,  a  woman,  was  the  con- 
federate of  a  strange  man;  she,  the  helpmate  of  one 
who  should  be  the  guardian  of  the  laws,  had  be- 
come the  abettor  of  a  crime.  What  dark  spirit  had 
infatuated  her  when  she  confidentially  held  counsel 
with  the  stranger  in  whispers  on  a  subject  which  she 
could  not  venture  to  confess  to  her  husband?  No! — 
he  who  had  drawn  her  into  this  was  not  a  stranger. 
She  had  from  her  childhood  heard  of  him  with  deep 
interest;  he  was  the  future  ruler  of  her  country,  and 
would  be  there  master  of  life  and  death.  From  the 
time  she  first  knew  him,  so  touching  in  his  joyless 
youth  and  in  the  weak  helplessness  of  his  position, 
she  had  been  tenderly  solicitous  about  him;  and  from 
that  day  she  had  always  found  in  him  an  amiable  and 
pure  mind.  She  was  now  trembling  with  anguish  for 
him.  She  had  driven  him  to  his  fate;  she  bore  the 
guilt  of  an  action  that  was  considered  unseemly  for 
one  in  his  position.  If  from  her  advice  evil  befell 
him — if  the  opponent  of  the  poor,  weak  youth  should 
kill  him, — how  could  she  bear  it  on  her  conscience? 

She  sprang  up,  and  wrung  her  hands.     Her  hus- 


AMONG    THE    STUDENTS.  1 07 

band  called  her,  and  she  shuddered,  for  she  felt  her- 
self guilty  in  his  sight.  Again  she  asked  herself: 
"What  bad  spirit  has  distracted  me?  Am  I  no  longer 
what  I  was?  Ah  me!  I  have  not  acted  as  becomes  a 
Christian  woman,  nor  as  a  careful  wife  who  opens  the 
shrine  of  her  soul  to  one  alone.  Yet,"  she  exclaimed, 
raising  her  head,  proudly,  "if  he  were  again  to  stand 
before  me,  and  again  ask  whether  he  should  act  as  a 
man  or  as  a  coward,  I  would  again  and  again  say  the 
same  thing.  May  God  forgive  me!" 

When  Kriiger  entered  the  Prince's  bedroom  to  un- 
dress him,  the  latter  laconically  charged  him  with  a 
commission  that  greatly  astonished  the  lackey.  But 
as  he  saw  himself  thereby  confirmed  in  his  confiden- 
tial position,  he  promised  obedience  and  silence.  He 
extinguished  the  lamp,  and  went  to  his  post.  An  hour 
after,  he  introduced  the  student,  who  had  been  brought 
by  Gabriel  through  a  back-door,  into  the  bedroom  of 
the  Prince.  There  a  conversation  took  place  in  a  low 
tone,  the  consequence  of  which  was  that  the  student 
hastened  from  the  house  in  great  excitement,  and  com- 
missioned Gabriel,  who  was  waiting,  to  order  a  cab  to 
be  ready  at  an  early  hour  in  the  morning  near  the 
corner  of  the  next  street. 

A  serious  company,  the  flower  of  the  different 
corps  and  associations,  tried  fellows  of  daring  aspect, 
were  assembled  at  early  dawn  in  the  hall  of  a  tavern 
some  distance  from  the  town — an  impressive  sight 
for  every  student  heart.  On  this  day  most  of  the 
sanguinary  agreements  of  the  memorable  evening  were 
to  be  settled  in  their  proper  order.  The  first  matter 
in  hand  concerned  the  academic  honor  of  the  Heredi- 
tary Prince.  The  combatants  were  drawn  up,  dressed 
in  their  fencing  attire;  each  one  stood,  with  his  sec- 


IO8  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

onds  and  umpires,  in  a  corner  of  the  room;  the  phy- 
sician— it  was  the  old  Teuton  of  the  fiddle — had  pre- 
pared his  apparatus  in  a  corner,  and  looked  with  grim 
satisfaction  on  his  impending  work,  which  promised 
him  new  and  instructive  cases.  But  the  Arminians 
were  unappeasable:  once  more  their  seconds  addressed 
themselves  to  the  referees,  and  complained  that  the 
Prince  was  not  there,  at  least,  to  acknowledge  his  rep- 
resentative by  his  presence.  They  therefore  demanded 
that  the  impending  combat  should  not  be  reckoned 
for  him,  but  accounted  as  a  personal  struggle  between 
the  two  students,  who  had  frequently  come  athwart 
each  other  in  various  delicate  relations.  As  the  Mar- 
komannshad  not  clear  consciences,  having  equivocally 
contrived  to  evade  the  question,  they  now  proposed 
that  the  Prince  should  subsequently  meet  the  seconds 
at  some  place  to  be  agreed  upon,  where  the  custom- 
ary reconciliation  should  take  place. 

This  was  discussed  with  much  bitterness,  but 
briefly,  as  the  hour  demanded.  Suddenly  the  fresh- 
man, a  young  Arminian,  who  kept  watch  outside, 
knocked  twice  at  the  door.  All  stood  motionless.  But 
the  seconds  gathered  the  swords  together  and  threw 
them  into  a  dark  closet,  while  our  student,  who,  as 
backer  for  his  comrade,  was  binding  silk  about  wrist 
and  arm,  sprang  quickly  to  the  door  and  opened  it. 
A  slight  figure  in  a  cloak  and  felt  hat  entered.  It  was 
the  Hereditary  Prince.  He  removed  his  hat:  his  face 
looked  paler  than  usual,  but  he  spoke  in  a  composed 
manner: 

"I  have  come  to  you  in  secret;  I  beg  that'  the  gen- 
tlemen present  will  permit  me  to  take  upon  myself  the 
responsibility  of  giving  satisfaction  and  will  show  me 
due  consideration  if  I  prove  unpractised  in  any  of  the 


AMONG    THE    STUDENTS.  IOQ 

customary  formalities;  it  is  the  first  time  that  I  try  my 
skill." 

There  was  a  silence  so  profound  that  one  could 
hear  the  slightest  stir.  All  present  felt  that  this 
was  a  manly  act.  But  Beppo,  the  Markomann,  stood 
confounded,  and  began: 

"Your  Highness's  presence  now  removes  the  only 
obstacle  to  our  proceeding  with  the  duel.  I  insist  that 
the  course  determined  upon  be  not  reversed,"  and  in 
a  lower  voice  he  added,  "I  beseech  your  Highness, 
not  to  do  what  is  so  plainly  unnecessary;  it  will  cast 
upon  us  all  a  responsibility  that  we  dare  not  assume." 

The  Prince  answered  firmly:  "You  have  fulfilled 
your  promise;  I  am  as  grateful  for  the  will  as  for  the 
deed.  But  I  am  resolute."  He  took  off  his  coat,  and 
said:  "  Put  the  bandages  on." 

The  second  of  the  Arminian  turned  towards  the 
umpire,  saying,  "  I  beg  to  inform  our  opponent  that 
not  a  moment  is  to  be  lost;  we  are  not  here  to  ex- 
change civilities;  if  the  Prince  wishes  to  have  satis- 
faction himself,  we  are  ready." 

The  Markomanns  prepared  the  Prince,  and  one 
must  acknowledge  that  the  brave  fellows  did  it  with  as 
anxious  solicitude  as  if  they  had  in  fact  been  war- 
riors of  the  race  whose  name  they  bore,  and  were 
preparing  their  young  king's  .  son  for  deadly  single 
combat. 

The  Prince  stepped  up  to  the  mark;  the  weapon 
trembled  in  the  hand  of  his  second,  a  scarred  veteran, 
as  he  took  his  position  beside  him.  "  Ready!  " — "  Go!" 
The  blades  whistled  in  the  air.  The  Prince  did  not 
behave  badly;  a  long  habit  of  cautious  self-command 
stood  him  in  good  stead;  he  avoided  exposing  himself 
dangerously;  and  his  second  drew  upon  himself  a 


HO  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

sharp  warning  from  the  umpire  for  inconsiderately  ex- 
posing his  own  person  within  reach  of  the  enemy's 
blade.  The  Arminian  was  far  superior  in  strength  and 
skill,  but  he  afterwards  acknowledged  to  his  intimate 
friends  that  it  had  quite  disconcerted  him  to  see  the 
princely  scion  within  reach  of  his  broadsword.  After 
the  fourth  pass,  blood  streamed  from  Ulf's  broad 
cheek  on  to  his  shirt.  His  second  demanded  the  con- 
tinuation of  the  fight,  but  the  umpire  declared  the 
quarrel  ended.  As  the  Prince  stood  still  in  his  place 
the  sword  fell  from  his  hand,  and  there  was  a  slight 
tremulous  motion  in  his  fingers;  but  he  smiled,  and 
there  was  a  pleased  expression  on  his  face.  In  one 
short  quarter  of  an  hour  a  boy  had  attained  the  self- 
reliance  of  a  man.  Before  the  Prince  turned  to  his 
antagonist  he  embraced  the  Markomann,  and  said: 
"  Now  I  can  thank  you  from  my  heart."  The  umpire 
led  him  to  his  opponent,  who  was  standing  ill-humor- 
edly before  the  Doctor,  but  yet  could  not  suppress  a 
smile  that  gave  him  some  pain,  and  both  shook 
hands.  Then  the  Arminians  approached  to  greet  the 
Prince,  while  the  umpire  called  out  "  Second  event." 

But  the  Prince,  who  had  resumed  his  mantle,  went 
to  the  director  of  the  duels,  and  began:  "  I  cannot  go 
away  without  making  a  great  request.  I  was,  unfor- 
tunately, the  cause  of  the  painful  occurrence  that  has 
occasioned  this  discord  among  the  students.  I  well 
know  that  I  have  no  right  here  to  express  any  wish, 
but  it  would  be  a  pleasant  recollection  forever  for  me 
if  I  could  bring  about  peace  and  reconciliation." 

At  this  moment  the  Prince  might  have  made  any 
demand  upon  his  Markomanns,  and  even  the  Armi- 
nians were  impressed  by  the  extraordinary  event.  A 
murmur  of  approbation  passed  through  the  room,  and 


AMONG    THE    STUDENTS.  Ill 

the  umpire  exclaimed  in  a  loud  voice:  "  The  Prince 
has  spoken  well."  The  gloomy  looks  of  some  indi- 
viduals were  disregarded;  the  seconds  and  seniors  held 
a  consultation  upon  the  spot,  and  the  result  was  that 
the  impending  challenges  were  amicably  settled,  and 
a  general  reconciliation  brought  about. 

The  Prince,  surrounded  by  the  Markomanns,  left 
the  house  and  jumped  into  the  carriage  awaiting  him. 
Kriiger  opened  the  bed-room  door  to  him. 

The  Chamberlain  had  been  much  surprised  this 
morning  at  the  long  repose  of  his  young  master;  but 
when  he  came  to  breakfast  he  found  his  Prince  sitting 
comfortably  at  the  table. 

After  Kriiger  had  gone  away,  the  Prince  began: 
"  The  duel  has  been  settled,  Weidegg.  I  fought 
it  out  myself."  The  Chamberlain  stood  up,  hor- 
rified. "  I  tell  you  it  because  it  could  not  long  be 
kept  a  secret.  I  hope  that  the  quarrel  among  the  stu- 
dents will  be  settled  by  it.  Do  not  say  anything 
against  it,  nor  be  annoyed  at  the  matter.  I  have  done 
what  I  considered  to  be  right,  or,  at  all  events,  what 
was  least  wrong,  and  am  happier  than  I  have  been  for 
a  long  time." 

The  Markomanns  had  begged  of  all  present  to  give 
their  word  that  the  events  of  the  morning  should  not 
be  spoken  of,  and  one  may  assume  that  every  one  kept 
his  promise.  Nevertheless,  the  news  flew  quick  as 
lightning  through  the  University  and  city,  that  the 
Prince  himself  had  composed  the  quarrel  by  his  valiant 
and  manly  conduct.  The  Chamberlain  perceived  from 
the  indications  of  pleasure  from  the  Markomanns,  and 
the  friendly  greetings  which  his  young  master  re- 
ceived in  the  street,  and  still  more  from  the  altered  de- 
meanor of  the  Prince  himself,  that  the  secret  duel  had 


112  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

had  a  good  result,  and  this  reconciled  him  a  little  to 
the  vexatious  occurrence. 

When  the  Prince  some  time  after  visited  the  Rec- 
tor's house,  he  was  led  into  the  latter's  study,  and 
Werner  greeted  him,  smiling.  "  I  was  obliged  to  in- 
form the  government  of  what  had  lately  taken  place, 
and  to  add,  according  to  the  unanimous  sentiments  of 
the  students  summoned  to  appear  before  me,  that  your 
Highness  had,  by  your  interposition,  contributed  es- 
sentially to  the  restoration  of  peace.  It  has  become 
my  duty  to  express  to  you  the  warm  acknowledgment 
of  the  academical  authorities.  I  venture  to  give  ex- 
pression to  my  own  wish,  that  all  that  your  Highness 
has  gone  through  on  this  occasion  may  ever  leave  an 
agreeable  and  also  profitable  recollection." 

As  the  Prince  bowed  to  Use,  he  said,  in  a  low  voice  : 
"All  has  gone  off  well.  I  thank  you."  Use  looked 
proudly  at  her  young  Prince.  Yet  she  had  not  re- 
covered from  the  fearful  anxiety  of  the  previous  day, 
and  she  was  more  reserved  with  him  than  usual. 


CHAPTER  XXV. 
CHAOS. 

SPRING  smiled  cheerfully  on  the  country ;  the  flow- 
ering shrubs  and  the  beds  in  the  garden  combined 
their  colors  brilliantly  ;  this  year,  starlings  actually  sang 
in  Mr.  Hahn's  cages,  and  rananculi  and  other  wild 
flowers  in  the  meadow  in  front  of  Mr.  HummePs  gar- 
den rejoiced  in  the  moist  warmth.  It  was  a  pleasant  time 


CHAOS.  113 

for  our  academical  citizens;  the  quarrels  of  the  winter 
were  settled,  the  beadles  put  on  their  night-caps  at 
ten  o'clock,  and  the  lectures  of  the  Professors  went  on 
smoothly  and  pleasantly. 

The  Rector  also  enjoyed  the  repose,  and  he  needed 
it,  for  Use  saw  with  anxiety  that  his  cheeks  were  thin- 
ner, and  that  in  the  evening  a  lassitude  came  over  him 
that  formerly  he  had  not  known. 

"  He  ought  to  rest  from  his  work  a  few  months," 
advised  the  physician;  that  will  lend  him  new  life  and 
^strength  for  years  to  come;  every  man  of  studious 
habits  requires  such  relaxation  two  or  three  times  dur- 
ing his  life;  traveling  would  be  the  best  thing." 

Felix  laughed,  but  his  wife  kept  this  counsel  faith- 
fully in  mind,  and  endeavored,  meanwhile,  as  often  as 
possible,  to  draw  her  husband  from  his  books  into  the 
air.  She  put  her  arm  within  his  and  took  him  into  the 
wood  and  green  meadows;  she  pointed  out  to  him  the 
butterflies  that  fluttered  over  the  wild  flowers,  and  the 
flights  of  birds  that  enjoyed  themselves  in  the  warm 
sun-light. 

"  Now  is  the  time  for  that  restlessness  of  which 
you  once  told  me.  Have  you  not  noticed  it?" 

"  Yes,"  said  the  Professor,  "  and  if  you  will  go  with 
me,  we  will,  at  least  in  fancy,  travel  together  into  for- 
eign parts." 

"Will  you  take  me  with  you?"  exclaimed  Use,  de- 
lighted. "  I  am  like  the  woodchuck:  I  only  know  the 
hole  from  which  my  master  brought  me,  and  the  cover 
of  the  cage  in  which  I  am  fed.  If  I  could  have  my 
wish,  I  should  like  to  see  snow-capped  peaks  rising 
high  above  the  clouds,  and  abysses  of  immeasurable 
depths.  But  from  the  mountains  I  would  descend  to 
olive-trees  and  oranges.  For  years  I  have  heard  of 


114  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

the  men  who  have  lived  there,  and  have  seen  how 
your  heart  leaps  for  joy  whenever  you  speak  of  the 
blue  ocean  and  of  the  grandeur  of  the  old  cities.  I 
would  gladly  see  all  this,  and  hear  you  talk  and  feel 
the  pleasure  which  you  would  have  in  revisiting  the 
scenes  so  dear  to  you." 

"  Very  well,"  said  the  Professor;  "  to  the  Alps  and 
then  to  Naples;  but  in  passing  I  must  work  a  few  weeks 
at  Florence  upon  Tacitus." 

"Ah!"  thought  Use,  "there  is  the  manuscript 
again." 

They  were  sitting  under  a  large  oak,  one  of  the 
giants  of  the  Middle  Ages,  that  towered  above  the  new 
generation  of  trees  in  the  forest,  as  the  cupola  of  St. 
Peter's  does  above  the  towers  and  roofs  of  the  Holy 
City. 

When  they  came  out  from  the  copse  into  the  open 
space,  they  saw,  amidst  the  flowers  in  the  meadow,  the 
livery,  of  a  lackey,  and  then  perceived  the  Prince  and 
his  attendant,  together  with  a  proprietor  from  a  neigh- 
boring village.  The  gentleman  approached  and 
greeted  them. 

"  We  have  a  design  upon  some  hours  of  your  lei- 
sure," called  out  the  Chamberlain  to  the  Professor, 
and  the  Prince  began: 

"  I  wish  to  invite  some  of  the  ladies  and  gentle- 
men of  the  University  to  an  entertainment  in  the  open 
air,  as  I  cannot  have  the  pleasure  of  receiving  them  at 
a  house  of  my  own.  It  will  be  a  small  party,  and  as 
rural  «as  possible;  we  thought  of  this  spot,  as  your 
wife  had  often  extolled  it.  I  would  be  grateful  for  your 
assistance  and  advice  as  to  the  arrangements." 

"If  your  Highness  wishes  to  please  the  ladies,  you 
should  also  invite  the  children.  If  it  is  at  the  same 


CHAOS  115 

time  a  children's  party,  your  Highness  maybe  assured 
that  it  will  leave  a  pleasant  impression." 

This  was  agreed  to.  Dainty  invitations  were  sent 
to  the  Rector  and  Deans,  and  the  Professors  with 
whom  the  Prince  was  personally  acquainted,  and  their 
families,  to  an  entertainment  in  the  open  air.  The  idea 
was  approved  by  great  and  small,  and  gave  rise  to 
pleasant  anticipations  among  the  acquaintances  of  the 
Rector's  wife. 

Laura  had  received  an  invitation,  and  her  pleasure 
was  great.  But  when  in  the  evening  it  appeared  that 
the  Doctor  was  not  invited,  she  was  quite  put  out. 

"I  do  not  mean  to  be  his  advocate,"  said  she,  to 
Use,  "but  he  is  precisely  in  my  position;  and  if  I  am 
asked  on  your  account,  he  ought  to  be  for  the  sake  of 
your  husband.  Their  having  neglected  to  do  this  is 
want  of  tact,  or  something  worse;  and,  as  he  is  not 
asked,  I  am  determined  not  to  go;  for,  let  Fritz  Hahn 
be  what  he  will,  he  has  not  deserved  a  slight  from 
these  people." 

In  vain  did  Use  try  to  explain  to  her  that  the  Doc- 
tor had  not  visited  the  Prince,  from  whom  the  invita- 
tions came.  Laura  remained  obstinate,  and  replied: 

"You  are  an  eloquent  defender  of  your  Prince,  and 
more  acquainted  with  the  customs  of  great  people 
than  I  had  supposed.  But  when  the  picnic-day  comes 
I  shall  feign  illness,  you  may  rely  on  that.  If  my  friend 
over  the  way  is  not  invited  I  shall  not  go.  But  do  not 
tell  the  Doctor,  lest  little  Fritz  should  fancy  I  do  it  for 
love  of  him;  it  is  not  friendship  for  him,  but  dis- 
pleasure at  the  Court  people." 

One  Sunday  there  drew  up  in  the  neighborhood 
of  the  great  oak,  first  a  large  van  with  Kriiger  and  a 
cook,  then  the  Prince's  equipages  bringing  the  ladies 


Il6  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

and  gentlemen,  and  an  omnibus  adorned  with  garlands 
and  wreaths  brought  the  children  of  the  different  fam- 
ilies. A  tent  had  been  set  up  in  the  meadow,  and  a 
little  apart,  concealed  in  the  copse,  a  wooden  hut  was 
erected  as  a  temporary  kitchen;  a  band  of  music  was 
stationed  in  the  wood  and  welcomed  the  parties  as 
they  arrived.  The  Prince  and  his  Chamberlain  re- 
ceived their  guests  near  the  wood,  and  conducted 
them  to  the  centre  of  the  picnic-grounds,  where  a 
prodigious  work  of  the  highest  confectionery  art  formed 
the  lighthouse,  in  the  neighborhood  of  which  they  all 
dropped  anchor.  Soon  there  was  a  clatter  of  cups, 
the  unavoidable  preparation  for  thorough  German  fes- 
tivity. In  the  beginning  the  company  were  solemn; 
there  was  something  unusual  in  the  arrangement  of 
the  fete  which  occasioned  reflection.  But  when  Raschke, 
raising  the  flaps  of  his  coat,  seated  himself  on  the 
grass,  and  the  other  gentlemen  followed  his  example 
and  lit  the  cigars  which  were  presented  to  them,  the 
meadow  assumed  a  bucolic  appearance.  Even  the 
Rector  sat  on  the  turf  with  his  legs  crossed  in  Turkish 
fashion;  near  him  the  Consistorial  Councillor  on  a 
chair;  and  somewhat  further  off,  on  the  trunk  of  a 
shattered  tree,  the  still  hostile  Struvelius,  with  Jiis 
bristling  hair  and  silent  manner,  like  the  sorrowful 
spirit  of  an  old  willow.  Apart  from  them,  but  en- 
throned on  a  high  ant-hill,  over  which  he  had  spread 
his  pocket-handkerchief,  sat  Master  Knips;  he  held 
his  slouch  hat  respectfully  under  his  arm,  and  rose 
whenever  the  Prince  approached.  Meanwhile  the'lat- 
ter  exerted  himself  to  entertain  the  ladies,  with  whom 
he  had  been  a  favorite  since  the  occurrence  of  last 
winter,  and  to-day  he  completely  gained  the  hearts 
of  both  mothers  and  daughters.  Use  and  he  worked 


CHAOS.  117 

together  with  a  mutual  understanding:  Use,  elevated 
by  the  thought  that  people  were  pleased  with  her 
Prince,  and  he  happy  at  heart  that  he  had  some  work 
in  common  with  the  Rector's  wife. 

Never  yet  had  he  felt  on  such  an  intimate  footing 
with  her  as  he  did  to-day.  He  looked  only  at  her,  he 
thought  only  of  her.  Amid  the  buzz  of  conversation, 
amid  the  sound  of  the  music,  he  listened  to  every  word 
that  fell  from  her  lips.  Whenever  he  approached  her 
he  felt  a  glow  of  transport.  In  plucking  a  leaf  from 
a  tree,  the  lace  of  her  sleeve  passed  over  his  face,  and 
the  touch  of  the  delicate  texture  brought  the  color 
into  his  cheeks.  Her  hand  rested  a  moment  on  his 
as  she  offered  him  a  ladybird,  and  the  slight  pressure 
made  his  heart  beat  fast. 

"The  ladybird  knows  your  Highness's  future,"  said 
Use.  "  You  should  ask  it:  Ladybird,  ladybird,  shall 
I  be  happy  long? — one  year,  two  years?  and  so  forth, 
till  it  flies  away." 

The  Prince  began  the  sentence,  but  had  not  ar- 
rived at  the  first  year  when  it  flew  away. 

"That  does  not  apply  to  you,"  said  Use,  laughing, 
to  console  him.  "The  little  creature  was  angry  at  me 
yet." 

"  I  had  rather  bear  the  misfortune  myself,"  said  the 
Prince,  in  a  low  tone,  "than  that  you  should  suffer  it." 

While  Use,  startled  at  the  deep  meaning  of  his 
words,  turned  to  the  ladies,  he  stealthily  picked  up 
the  kerchief  that  had  fallen  from  her  shoulders,  and, 
behind  a  tree,  pressed  it  to  his  lips. 

Still  merrier  did  the  young  people  become,  when 
from  the  hut  behind  the  bushes  two  men  stepped 
forth  with  red-coats  and  drums,  and  invited  them  to 
try  their  skill  at  the  popinjay.  The  Chamberlain  took 


Il8  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

the  superintendence  of  the  boys,  and  Use  of  the  girls; 
foresters  and  lackeys  helped  with  the  cross-bows;  the 
arrows  struck  incessantly  on  the  body  of  the  bird,  for 
the  hitting  was  made  easy,  and  those  who  did  not 
win  could  admire  the  prizes,  which  were  arranged 
on  two  tables.  Everything  went  on  smoothly,  as  is 
fitting  at  Court  fetes;  the  lackeys  moved  incessantly 
among  the  company,  with  every  imaginable  refresh- 
ment; the  splints  from  the  popinjays  fell  like  hail,  and 
the  Prince  distributed  the  prizes  to  the  children  who 
thronged  round  him.  Bertha  Raschke  became  queen 
of  tournament,  and  a  little  son  of  the  Consistorial 
Councillor  her  consort.  The  children,  carrying  their 
presents,  followed  the  drummers  with  joyous  shouts 
up  to  a  long  table,  where  a  supper  was  prepared  for 
them.  They  were  to  sit  down  with  the  king  and 
queen  in  the  middle.  The  foresters  and  lackeys  served 
the  different  courses.  The  Chamberlain  could  not 
have  devised  anything  better  to  please  the  parents; 
and  the  fathers  walked  behind  the  chairs  and  enjoyed 
seeing  the  little  ones  drinking  harmless  wine  out  of 
the  crystal  glasses,  their  rosy  faces  expressing  de- 
lighted astonishment  at  the  beautiful  china  and  silver 
dishes.  They  soon  became  merry;  finally  the  little 
Consistorial  Councillor  proposed  the  health  of  the 
Prince;  all  the  children  cried  "Hurrah!"  the  drum- 
mers drummed,  the  music  struck  up,  and  the  parents 
stood  round  thanking  the  giver  of  the  feast.  Use 
brought  a  garland  of  wild  flowers  which  the  ladies  had 
woven,  and  begged  permission  of  the  Prince  to  put  it 
upon  him.  He  stood  amidst  the  happy  party  elevated 
by  the  innocent  joy  of  all  around  him,  and  by  the  re- 
spectful attachment  which  was  visible  on  all  counten- 
ances. He  looked  at  Use  with  silent  thanks,  and 


CHAOS.  ng 

without  apparent  cause  his  eyes  filled  with  tears. 
Again  the  children  screamed  out  "  Hurrah!  "-and  the 
drums  beat. 

A  horseman  in  strange  livery  galloped  out  of  the 
wood;  the  Chamberlain,  in  consternation,  approached 
the  Prince,  and  handed  him  a  letter  with  a  black  seal. 
The  Prince  hastened  into  the  tent,  and  the  Chamber- 
lain followed  him. 

The  wild  flowers  had  brought  the  young  gentle- 
man no  good  fortune.  The  pleasure  of  the  fete  was 
over;  the  company  stood  in  groups  about  the  tent, 
uncertain  and  sympathizing.  At  last  the  Prince  and 
the  Chamberlain  came  out.  While  the  latter  turned 
to  the  Rector  and  to  those  who  surrounded  him,  Use 
saw  the  Prince  at  her  side  with  deep  sorrow  depicted 
on  his  countenance. 

"  I  beg  of  you  to  excuse  me  to  the  ladies,  as  I  am 
obliged  to  depart  immediately:  my  sister's  husband 
has  died,  after  a  short  illness,  and  my  poor  sister  is 
very  unhappy."  In  great  agitation,  he  continued: 
"  I  myself  knew  my  brother-in-law  -only  slightly,  but 
he  was  very  kind  to  my  sister,  and  she  felt  happier 
with  him  than  she  had  ever  been  in  her  life.  She 
writes  to  me  in  despair,  and  the  misfortune  is  for  her 
quite  inexpressible.  Under  existing  circumstances 
she  cannot  remain  in  her  present  abode,  and  I  foresee 
that  she  must  return  to  us.  It  is  our  bitter  fate  always 
to  be  tossed  about,  never  to  remain  quiet.  I  know 
that  I  shall  meet  with  a  similar  misfortune.  I  feel 
myself  happy  here, — to  you  I  can  confess  this, — and  I 
regret  to  say  that  this  death  makes  it  very  uncertain 
whether  I  shall  ever  return.  I  go  to  my  sister  to- 
morrow for  a  few  days.  Pray  think  of  me  kindly." 

He  bowed  and  retired   into  the  tent,  and  in  a  few 


I2O  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

minutes  his  carriage  was  on  its  way  back  to  the 
city. 

Use  hastened  to  her  husband,  who  had  been  re- 
quested by  the  Chamberlain  to  act  for  the  Prince.  It 
was  immediately  determined  to  break  up  the  party: 
the  children  were  put  into  the  carriages,  and  the  rest 
returned  to  the  city  in  earnest  conversation. 

Meanwhile  Laura  feigned  illness,  and  sat  in  her 
little  sitting-room  rummaging  about  among  the  old 
ballads.  After  the  meeting  in  the  village  garden  she 
had  discovered  with  dismay  that,  in  her  anxiety  about 
the  Doctor,  she  had  much  diminished  her  treasure: 
full  a  dozen  of  the  best  were  gone,  and  thus  the  tie  by 
which  she  held  the  collector's  heart  fast  threatened 
to  come  to  an  end.  She  had,  therefore,  not  sent  any- 
thing since  the  drinking-song.  But  to-day,  when  the 
Doctor  had  experienced  treatment  that  gave  her  more 
concern  than  it  did  him,  she  sought  for  something  to 
console  him. 

A  heavy  step  on  the  staircase  disturbed  her  in  the 
work  of  selection.  She  had  hardly  time  to  throw  her 
treasures  into  the  secret  drawer  before  Mr.  Hummel 
was  at  the  door.  It  was  a  rare  visit,  and  Laura  re- 
ceived him  with  the  foreboding  that  his  coming  por- 
tended serious  results.  Mr.  Hummel  approached  his 
daughter  and  looked  at  her  closely,  as  if  she  had  been 
a  new  Paris  invention. 

"  So  you  have  a  headache,  and  could  not  accept 
the  invitation?  I  am  not  accustomed  to  that  in  my 
daughter.  I  cannot  prevent  your  mo.ther  from  allow- 
ing her  feelings  to  affect  her  brains,  at  times;  but  I 
have  a  right  to  demand  that  your  head  should,  under 
all  circumstances,  remain  sound.  Why  did  you  not 
accept  the  invitation  to  the  picnic?  " 


CHAOS.  121 

"  It  would  have  been  an  intolerable  constraint  upon 
me,"  said  Laura. 

"  I  understand,"  replied  Mr.  Hummel.  "  I  am  not 
much  in  favor  of  princes,  but  not  much  against  them 
either.  I  cannot  discover  that  they  have  greater 
heads  than  other  people.  I  am  therefore  obliged  to 
consider  them  simply  as  ordinary  customers  who  are 
not  always  number  one,  neither  do  they  always  wear 
number  one  goods.  Nevertheless,  when  a  prince  in- 
vites you,  with  other  distinguished  persons,  to  a  re- 
spectable summer  entertainment,  and  you  refuse  to 
go,  I,  as  your  father,  ask  you  for  the  reason;  and,  be- 
tween you  and  me,  it  shall  now  be  no  question  of 
headache." 

Laura  perceived,  from  the  expression  of  her  fa- 
ther's countenance,  that  he  had  some  other  idea  in 
his  head. 

"  If  you  wish  to  know  the  truth,  I  will  make  no 
secret  of  it.  I  am  not  invited  on  my  own  account; 
for  what  do  these  people  care  about  me?  It  is  only  as 
the  appendage  of  our  lodgers." 

"  You  knew  that  when  the  invitation  came,  and  yet 
you  jumped  for  joy." 

"  The  idea  only  occurred  to  me  afterwards  when — " 

"When  you  learnt  that  the  Doctor  over  there  was 
not  invited,"  completed  Mr.  Hummel.  "  Your  mother  is 
a  very  worthy  woman,  for  whom  I  entertain  the  high- 
est respect,  but  it  sometimes  happens  that  one  can 
screw  a  secret  out  of  her.  When  you  thus  ruminate 
over  what  neither  your  father  nor  the  world  should 
know,  you  should  confide  it  to  no  one,  either  in  our 
house  or  in  any  other." 

"  Very  well,"  said  Laura,  with  decision;  "  if  you 
have  discovered  it,  hear  it  now  from  me.  I  am  a 


122  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

plebeian  just  as  much  as  Fritz  Hahn  is;  he  has  been 
in  the  society  of  those  Court  people  more  frequently 
than  I;  their  taking  no  notice  of  him  made  it  clear  to 
me  that  they  considered  one  who  is  his  equal  as  a 
superfluous  addition." 

An  expression  of  irony  overspread  the  broad  fea- 
tures of  Mr.  Hummel. 

"So  that  fellow  over  there  is  your  equal?  "  he  be- 
gan; "that  is  exactly  what  I  wished  to  disabuse  your 
mind  of.  I  should  not  approve  of  your  regulating  your 
feelings  according  to  that  weather-cock  over  the  way. 
I  do  not  choose  that  the  idea  should  ever  come  into 
the  head  of  Hahn  Junior  to  build  an  arch  across  the 
street,  and  to  wander  about  in  slippers  from  one  house 
to  the  other.  The  thought  does  not  please  me.  I  will 
bring  forward  only  one  reason,  which  has  nothing  to  do 
with  the  old  grudge.  He  is  his  father's  son,  and  he 
has  no  real  energy  of  character.  One  who  can  en- 
dure to  sit  year  after  year  in  that  straw-nest,  turning 
over  the  pages  of  books,  would  not,  if  I  were  a  girl,  be 
the  man  for  me.  It  is  possible  that  he  may  be  very 
learned,  and  may  know  much  about  things  that  other 
men  care  little  for;  but  I  have  not  yet  heard  that  he 
has  accomplished  anything  by  it.  Therefore,  if  that 
should  happen,  which  will  not  happen  so  long  as  the 
property  over  there  is  a  poultry-yard, — if  I,  Henry 
Hummel,  should  consent  that  my  only  child  should  sit 
knitting  stockings  in  front  of  the  white  Muse,  it  would 
be  a  misfortune  for  my  child  herself.  For  you  are  my 
daughter.  You  are  just  as  self-willed  as  I  am;  and  if 
you  should  get  among  those  white-livered  people,  you 
would  disturb  them  lamentably,  and  be  very  unhappy 
yourself.  Therefore,  I  am  of  opinion  that  your  head- 


CHAOS.  123 

ache  was  silliness,  and   I  wish  never  to  hear  again  of 
like  ailments.     Good  day,  Miss  Hummel." 

He  strode  out  of  the  door,  and  as  he  heavily 
descended  the  stairs,  he  hummed  the  tune: 

"  Bloom,  sweet  violet,  that  I  myself  have  reared." 

Laura  sat  at  her  writing-table  supporting  her  heavy 
head  with  both  her  hands.  This  had  been  a  trying 
scene.  The  speech  of  her  stern  father  had  wounded 
her  deeply.  But  in  his  depreciating  observations  on 
their  neighbor's  son  there  was  a  certain  truth,  which 
had  already  crept  like  a  hateful  spider  over  the  bright 
leaves  of  her  sympathy.  He  must  go  out  into  the 
world.  Her  friends  below  were  thinking  of  going  into 
foreign  parts.  Ah!  she  herself,  a  poor  bird,  fluttered 
her  wings  in  vain,  for  the  fetters  on  her  feet  held 
her  back.  But  he  could  free  himself.  She  would  lose 
him  from  her  neighborhood,  perhaps  lose  him  for  ever; 
but  this  ought  not  to  hinder  her  from  telling  him  the 
truth.  She  hastily  searched  among  the  old  sheets; 
she  could  find  but  one  ballad,  which  undoubtedly  did 
not  fit  the  Doctor,  inasmuch  as  it  expressed  the  feel- 
ings of  a  dissolute  wanderer.  The  song  was  inap- 
propriate, but  there  was  none  better.  Our  ancestors, 
when  not  occupied  in  highway  exploits,  took  little 
pleasure  in  travelling.  The  letter  must  do  the  work. 
She  wrote  as  follows:— 

"  The  summer  birds  are  flying,  and  man  also 
yearns  after  the  distant  lands  of  his  dreams.  Do  not 
be  angry  with  the  sender  of  this,  for  begging  you  to 
imbibe  something  of  the  spirit  of  this  song.  Your 
home  is  too  narrow  for  you.  Your  merits  are  not  ap- 
preciated here  as  they  deserve.  You  are  deprived  in 
the  quiet  house  of  your  parents  of  those  experiences 
which  a  man  gains  when  he  forms  his  life  by  his  own 


124  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

qualifications.  I  well  know  that  your  highest  task  will 
always  be  to  promote  learning  by  your  writings.  That 
you  may  do  everywhere.  But  do  not  think  it  beneath 
you  to  influence  younger  minds  by  personal  inter- 
course with  them,  and  to  participate  in  the  struggles 
of  their  generation.  Away,  Doctor!  the  unknown 
bird  sings  to  you  the  song  of  the  wanderer.  With 
sorrow  will  your  loss  be  felt  by  those  you  leave  be- 
hind." 

About  the  same  hour,  Gabriel  was  sitting  in  his 
room  brushing  the  last  specks  of  dust  from  his  best 
livery  which  he  had  spread  over  a  chair.  At  his  feet 
lay  the  red  dog,  licking  his  paws  and  giving  utterance 
to  an  occasional  growl.  Gabriel  looked  contemptu- 
ously at  the  dog. 

"  You  are  not  handsomer,  nor  better  than  last 
winter.  Your  knavish  nature  delights  in  nothing  but 
eating,  and  flying  at  the  legs  of  the  passers-by.  I  have 
never  known  a  dog  so  much  hated,  or  who  deserved 
it  _so  well;  for  your  only  pleasure  is  to  despise  all  that  is 
respectable.  What  is  your  favorite  amusement?  When 
it  has  rained  and  a  ray  of  sun  attracts  people  to  walk 
in  the  wood,  you  lurk  on  the  steps;  and  when  a  young 
girl  appears  clad  in  her  light  summer  dress,  then  you 
leap  like  a  frog  into  the  puddle  that  lies  before  her, 
and  spatter  her  dress  all  over,  and  I  have  to  fetch  a 
cab  to  take  her  home.  What  did  the  strolling  cigar- 
dealer  do  yesterday  to  provoke  you.  His  chest  was 
standing  on  the  bench  in  Mr.  Hummel's  garden,  and 
the  prospect  of  a  bargain  was  certain.  The  cigar-man 
went  a  few  steps  from  his  chest  to  speak  to  an  ac- 
quaintance, and  you,  miscreant,  made  a  spring  at  the 
bread  and  butter  lying  on  the  chest,  and  came  with  all 
fours  on  the  glass.  It  broke,  and  the  splinters  mixed 


CHAOS.  125 

with  the  cigars;  you  trampled  them  altogether  into  a 
powder,  and  then  returned  to  the  house.  You,  mon- 
ster, caused  your  master  to  deal  'roughly  with  the 
trader  when  he  complained  of  you,  and  the  man 
packed  up  his  wares  and  went  away  from  our  house 
with  a  curse  on  his  lips.  On  what  nocturnal  excur 
sion  have  you  been  since  then?  No  human  eye  has 
seen  you." 

He  bent  down  towards  the  dog. 

"  So  this  time  it  has  gone  into  your  flesh.  I  am 
glad  to  see  you  can  injure  yourself  as  well  as  others." 

Gabriel  examined  the  dog's  paw  and  extracted  a 
glass  splinter.  The  dog  looked  at  him  and  whined. 

"  If  I  only  knew,"  continued  Gabriel,  shaking  his 
head,  "  what  pleases  the  dog  in  me.  Is  it  the  bones, 
or  perhaps  some  roguish  trait  of  mine  that  amuses 
him?  He  hates  the  whole  world,  and  even  snarls  at 
his  master;  but  he  comes  to  visit  me  and  behaves 
himself  like  a  worthy  companion.  And  he  is  still  more 
crazy  about  my  master.  I  do  not  believe  that  the 
Rector  knows  much  of  Spitehahn.  But  whenever 
this  fiend  sees  my  Professor,  he  peeps  at  him  slyly 
from  under  his  shaggy  eyebrows,  and  does  his  best  to 
wag  his  tuft  of  a  tail.  And  when  my  master  goes  to 
the  University,  he  runs  after  him  like  a  lamb  behind 
its  mother.  How  comes  it  that  this  black  soul  at- 
taches itself  to  the  Professor?  What  does  he  want 
with  our  learning?  They  do  not  believe  in  you  any- 
how, Spitehahn." 

He  looked  round  suspiciously  and  hastily  donned 
his  coat.  Arrayed  in  his  Sunday  attire  he  left  the 
house.  The  Hahn  family  were  not  at  home,  for  Dor- 
chen  was  looking  out  of  the  dressing-room  window. 
She  laughed  and  nodded.  Gabriel  took  courage,  and 


126  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

stepped  into  the  enemies'  hall.  The  door  of  the  room 
opened.  Dorchen  stood  on  the  threshold  curtsying, 
and  Gabriel,  holding  the  handle  of  the  door,  began, 
solemnly: 

"It  would  be  much  more  pleasant  for  me  if  I  could 
have  the  pleasure  of  accompanying  you  in  your  walk 
to-day." 

Dorchen  replied,  twitching  at  her  apron: 

"  I  have  got  to  stay  here  to  mind  the  house,  but 
that  need  not  prevent  you  from  going." 

"I  should  then  take  no  pleasure  in  it,"  replied 
Gabriel,  bowing,  "for  I  should  be  always  thinking  of 
you,  and  I  had  much  rather  be  with  you  here  than 
only  think  of  you  in  the  open  air.  If,  therefore,  you 
would  allow  me  to  stay  here  a  little  while — ?" 

"Why,  come  in,  of  course,  Gabriel." 

"Only  to  the  threshold,"  said  Gabriel,  advancing, 
still  holding  the  open  door.  "I  only  wanted  to  say 
that  the  number  of  which  you  lately  dreamt  is  not  to 
be  found  at  any  of  the  offices.  I  have,  therefore,  taken 
another,  and  have  had  it  drawn  by  a  little  beggar  lad, 
as  that  brings  good  luck.  I  shall  be  so  pleased  if  you 
will  play  this  number  with  me.  It  is  quite  a  sum,  for 
it  is  a  whole  eighth  of  a  ticket." 

"But  that  will  be  no  good  sign,"  said  Dorchen, 
with  pretty  embarrassment. 

"Why  not,  Fraulein?   It  was  a  real  beggar-boy." 

"No,  I  mean  when  two  play  together  who  love  one 
another." 

"Dear  Dorchen!"  cried  Gabriel,  approaching  nearer 
and  seizing  her  hand. 

A  hollow  gurgle  interrupted  the  conversation. 
Dorchen  drew  back  from  him  terrified. 

"It  was  a  ghost,"  she  cried. 


CHAOS.  127 

"That  is  impossible,"  said  Gabriel,  consolingly: 
"for,  first,  it  is  day-time;  secondly,  it  is  in  a  new 
house;  and,  thirdly,  spirits  generally  do  not  make  such 
a  noise.  It  was  something  in  the  street." 

"Your  being  here  is  a  real  comfort  to  me,"  ex- 
claimed the  timid  Dorchen.  "It  is  fearful  to  be  alone 
in  a  large  house." 

"To  be  together  in  a  small  house  is  particularly 
jolly,"  cried  Gabriel,  boldly.  "Ah,  Dorchen!  if  we 
could  venture  to  think  of  it." 

Again  a  slight  rumble  was  heard. 

"  There  must  be  something  here,"  cried  Dorchen. 
"  I  am  so  alarmed!" 

She  sprang  away  from  him  to  the  middle  of  the 
room.  Gabriel  took  a  yard  measure,  and  looked  under 
the  furniture. 

"So  you  are  there,  are  you?"  he  cried,  angrily, 
poking  with  the  yard  measure  under  the  sofa. 

Spitehahn  leaped  forth  with  a  bark  on  to  the  nearest 
chair,  from  the  chair  on  to  the  console,  on  which  the 
clock  stood;  he  knocked  down  the  clock,  and  dashed 
through  the  half-opened  door. 

It  was  the  parlor  clock  and  a  wedding  present. 
Mr.  Hahn  wound  it  up  every  evening  before  he  went 
to  bed;  it  had  two  alabaster  pillars  with  gilded  capi- 
tals; the  rest  was  of  American  wood,  and  represented 
a  triumphal  arch.  Now  the  treasure  lay  in  ruins,  the 
pillars  shattered,  the  woad  broken,  and  the  dial  split. 
In  the  opened  works  a  single  wheel  whirled  with  fear- 
ful rapidity,  all  the  rest  was  motionless.  Dorchen  stood 
dismayed  before  the  fragments,  and  wrung  her  hands. 

"  The  monster,"  groaned  Gabriel,  occupying  himself 
in  vain  with  the  shattered  work  of  art,  and  endeavor- 


128  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

ing  with  no  better  result  to  comfort  the  poor  maiden, 
who  trembled  before  the  terrors  of  the  ensuing  hour. 

"I  had  a  foreboding,"  cried  Mr.  Hahn,  on  his  re- 
turn home,  "that  something  would  happen  to-day.  I 
forgot  yesterday,  for  the  first  time,  to  wind  up  the 
clock.  But  now  my  patience  is  at  an  end;  there  will 
be  war  to  the  knife  between  him  over  the  way  and  me." 
He  approached  the  sobbing  maid  threateningly.  "Bear 
witness  to  the  truth,"  he  cried  out;  "  the  court  will 
demand  your  testimony.  Do  not  seek  safety  in  hypoc- 
risy and  lies.  Was  it  the  dog,  or  was  it  you?" 

Dorchen  dramatically  related  the  whole  trans- 
gression of  Spitehahn;  she  poked  under  the  sofa,  as  if 
she  could  draw  the  dog  out  bodily;  she  confessed, 
weepingly,  to  the  open  door,  and  explained  Gabriel's 
presence  as  owing  to  an  inquiry  he  had  made  of  her." 

"  Unfortunate  one,"  cried  the  master  of  the  house, 
"I  see  your  embarrassment:  it  was  yourself ;  your  con- 
science pricks  you.  How  can  you  show  that  the  dog 
was  under  the  sofa?  On  your  peril,  I  demand  a  tan- 
gible evidence." 

"Here  it  is,"  cried  Dorchen,  still  sobbing,  and 
pointing  in  tragic  attitude  with  her  hand  to  the 
ground. 

There  certainly  was  an  indubitable  proof  under  the 
sofa,  although  not  strictly  tangible.  The  dog  had  left 
behind  him  as  sure  a  confirmation  as  if  he  had  im- 
pressed his  seal  on  the  ground. 

Now,  Mrs.  Hahn  indignantly  gave  the  orders  which 
became  a  housewife. under  such  circumstances. 

"Do  not  attempt  it,"  cried  Mr.  Hahn;  "away  with 
towels  and  cloths;  this  shall  remain." 

"But,  Andreas,"  exclaimed  his  wife. 

'•"This  shall  remain,  I  say;  it  must  be  acknowledged 


CHAOS.  129 

and  certified  to.  Bring  Mr.  Ruddy  immediately,  and 
his  wife,  and  whatever  witnesses  you  can  find  on 
the  street." 

The  witnesses  came,  and,  standing  round,  exam- 
ined the  place  of  the  evil  deed;  but  Mr.  Hahn  hast- 
ened to  his  writing-table,  and  wrote  a  strong  letter  to 
Mr.  Hummel,  in  which  he  related  the  misdeed,  and 
threateningly  demanded  compensation.  This  letter 
Mr.  Ruddy  carried  off  to  Mr.  Hummel,  with  a  board 
on  which  were  laid  the  ruins  of  the  clock. 

Hummel  read  the  letter  carefully,  and  threw  it  on 
the  table. 

"  I  congratulate  your  master  upon  his  new  under- 
taking for  the  summer,."  he  said,  coldly.  "Carry  the 
debris  back  again;  I  have  no  answer  for  such  non- 
sense. Some  people  will  make  fools  of  themselves." 

The  following  day  a  judicial  complaint  again 
raised  its  Medusa's  head  between  the  two  houses. 
This  time  even  Mrs.  Hahn  was  deeply  incensed;  and 
when  she,  shortly  after,  met  Laura  on  the  street,  she 
turned  her  good-humored  face  to  the  other  side,  to 
avoid  greeting  the  daughter  of  the  enemy. 

Laura  received  the  Doctor's  answer  to  her  letter. 
In  a  pretty  poem  the  happiness  of  the  parental  house 
was  extolled,  and  he  spoke  of  his  great  delight  in  his 
neighbor's  charming  daughter,  whom  the  poet  saw  in 
the  garden  among  her  flowers,  whenever  he  looked 
over  the  high  hedge.  He  further  added:  "The  advice 
which  you  express  so  sincerely  in  your  lines  has  found 
an  echo  in  me.  I  know  what  is  lacking  in  my  life. 
My  learning  makes  it  impossible  for  me  to  find  recog- 
nition in  wider  circles,  an  honor,  which  the  friends  of 
a  learned  man  desire  for  him  more  eagerly  than  he 
himself  does;  it  also  makes  it  difficult  for  me  to  adopt 


I3O  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

the  academical  course  to  which  I  have  now  a  call  in 
foreign  parts.  But  the  nature  of  my  studies  takes  from 
me  all  hope  that  any  outward  results  can  ever  over- 
come the  hindrances  which  oppose  themselves  to  the 
secret  wishes  of  my  soul." 

"Poor  Fritz!"  said  Laura;  "and  yet  poorer  me! 
Why  must  he  give  up  all  hope  because  he  studies 
Sanscrit?  It  is  not  courage  that  is  wanting  to  these 
learned  men,  as  father  says,  but  passion.  Like  the 
old  gods  about  whom  you  write,  you  have  no  human 
substance,  and  no  blood  in  your  veins.  A  few  sparks 
are  occasionally  kindled  up  in  your  life  and  one  hopes 
they  may  light  up  into  a  mighty  flame;  but  immedi- 
ately it  is  all  smothered  and  extinguished  by  prudent 
consideration."  She  rose  suddenly.  "Ah!  if  one  could 
but  lay  hold  of  Fritz  by  the  hair  and  cast  him  into 
the  wildest  tumult,  through  which  he  would  have  to 
fight  his  way  bloodily,  defy  my  father,  and  hazard  a 
great  deal,  in  order  to  win  what  he  in  his  gentle  way  says 
he  desires  for  himself!  Away  with  this  quiet,  learned 
atmosphere:  it  makes  those  who  breathe  it  contempt- 
ible! Their  strongest  excitement  is  a  sorrowful  shrug 
of  the  shoulders  over  other  mortals  or  themselves." 

Thus  did  the  passionate  Laura  chafe  in  her  attic- 
room,  and  again  was  her  paper  moistened  by  bitter 
tears,  as  she  sought  consolation  in  heroic  verses,  and 
called  upon  the  foreign  gods  of  the  Doctor  to  take  the 
field  against  the  pranks  of  Spitehahn. 

Glorious  Indra  and  all  ye  divinities  shining  in  heaven, 

That  have  so  often  conferred  blessings  on  races  of  men, 

Haste  in  rescue  to  us,  for  great  misfortune  doth  threaten. 

Ominous  shadows  of  night  darken  our  peaceable  home, 

Banish  the  child  from  the  father;  while  flat  on  the  door-step  outsprawling, 

Growleth  with  vengeful  intent  fiercely  th'  insidious  cur. 

The  peace  was  disturbed  not  only  for  the  neighbors 


CHAOS.  131 

of  the  Park  street,  but  also  for  the  young  Prince,  at 
whose  fete  the  trouble  had  begun. 

The  Prince  was  detained  some  weeks  from  the 
city.  After  his  return,  he  lived  in  the  quiet  retire- 
ment that  the  duties  of  mourning  imposed  upon  him. 
Lectures  in  his  room  were  again  resumed,  but  his 
place  at  Use's  tea-table  remained  empty. 

On  the  day  when  the  University  prizes  were  dis- 
tributed, the  students  made  a  great  torchlight  proces- 
sion to  their  Rector's  house.  The  flaming  lights  waved 
in  the  old  streets;  the  fanfares  resounded,  in  the  midst 
of  which  the  lusty  voices  of  the  singing  students  might 
be  heard;  gables  and  balconies  were  lighted  in  colored 
splendor;  the  marshals  swung  their  weapons  gaily, 
and  the  torch-bearers  scattered  the  sparks  among  the 
thronging  crowds  of  spectators.  The  procession 
turned  into  the  street  towards  the  valley;  it  stopped 
before  the  house  of  Mr.  Hummel.  Again  there  was 
music  and  singing;  a  deputation  solemnly  crossed  the 
threshold.  Hummel  looked  proudly  on  the  long 
stream  of  red  lights  which  flickered  about  and  lighted 
up  his  house.  The  whole  honor  was  intended  for  his 
house  alone,  though  he  could  not  prevent  the  glare 
and  smoke  from  illuminating  the  enemies'  roof, 
also. 

Upstairs  some  of  the  rector's  most  intimate  friends 
were  assembled;  he  received  the  leaders  of  the  stu- 
dents in  his  room,  and  there  were  speeches  and  replies. 
While  those  assembled  were  crowding  nearer  to  listen 
to  the  speech-making,  the  door  of  Use's  room  gently 
opened,  and  the  Prince  entered.  Use  hastened  to  meet 
him,  but  he  began,  without  greeting: 

"  I  have  come  to-day  to  bid  you  farewell.  What  I 
foresaw  has  happened.  I  have  received  orders  to  re- 


132  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

turn  to  my  father.  To-morrow  I  and  my  attendant 
will  take  formal  leave  of  the  Rector  and  yourself,  but 
I  wished  first  to  see  you  for  a  moment;  and,  now  that 
I  stand  before  you,  I  cannot  express  the  feelings  that 
prompted  me  to  come.  I  thank  you  for  all  your  kind- 
ness. I  beg  of  you  not  to  forget  me.  It  is  you  who 
have  made  the  city  so  dear  to  me.  It  is  you  who  make 
it  hard  for  me  to  go  away." 

He  spoke  these  words  so  softly  that  it  seemed  only 
as  if  a  breath  had  passed  into  Use's  ear;  and  he  did 
not  await  her  answer,  but  left  the  room  as  quickly  as 
he  came  into  it. 

Outside,  in  the  open  place  by  the  common,  the 
students  threw  their  torches  in  a  great  heap;  the  red 
flame  rose  high  in  the  air,  and  the  gray  smoke  encir- 
cled the  tops  of  the  trees;  it  rolled  over  the  houses  and 
crept  through  the  open  windows,  and  stifled  the 
breath.  The  flame  became  lower,  and  a  thin  smoke 
ascended  from  the  dying  embers.  It  had  been  a  rapid, 
brilliant  glow,  a  fleeting  fire,  now  extinguished,  and  only 
smoke  and  ashes  remained.  But  Use  was  still  stand- 
ing by  her  window,  and  looking  sorrowfully  out  upon 
the  empty  place. 

CHAPTER  XXVI. 
THE    DRAMA. 

"  He  was  a  tyrant,"  exclaimed  Laura,  "  and  she 
was  right  not  to  obey  him." 

"He  did  his  duty  harshly,  and  she  also,"  replied 
Use. 

"  He  was  a  cross-grained,  narrow-minded  fellow, 
who  was  at  last  humbled;  but  she  was  a  noble  hero- 
ine, who  cast  from  her  all  that  was  most  dear  on  earth 
in  order  to  fulfill  her  highest  obligations,"  said 
Laura. 


THE    DRAMA.  133 

"  He  acted  under  the  impulse  of  his  nature,  as  she 
did  according  to  hers.  Hers  was  the  stronger  charac- 
ter, and  she  went  victoriously  to  death.  The  burden 
of  his  deed  crushed  him  during  life,"  rejoined  Use. 

The  characters  which  the  ladies  were  discussing 
were  Antigone  and  Creon. 

The  Professor  had  one  autumn  evening  laid  the 
tragedies  of  Sophocles  on  his  wife's  table.  "  It  is  time 
that  you  should  learn  to  appreciate  the  greatest  poets 
of  antiquity  in  their  works."  He  read  them  aloud  and 
explained  them.  The  lofty  forms  of  the  Attic  stage 
hovered  in  the  peaceful  atmosphere  of  the  German 
home.  Use  heard  around  her  curses  and  heart-break- 
ing lamentations,  she  saw  a  dark  fatality  impending 
over  men  of  the  noblest  feeling  and  iron  will;  she  felt 
the  storm  of  passion  raging  in  powerful  souls,  and 
heard,  amidst  the  cry  of  revenge  and  despair,  the  soft 
chords  of  soul-stirring  pathos  sounding  with  irresisti- 
ble magic. 

The  time  had  indeed  come  when  Use  could  com- 
prehend and  enter  into  the  feelings  and  fate  of  others 
than  herself. 

The  bright  rays  of  the  midday  sun  do  not  always 
shine  upon  the  paths  of  man.  Not  with  the  eye  alone 
does  he  seek  his  way  amid  the  shadows  of  night,  but 
he  hearkens,  too,  to  the  secret  voices  within  his  breast. 
From  the  battle  of  clashing  duties,  from  the  irresisti- 
ble impulse  of  passion,  it  is  not  with  most  men  a  care- 
ful thought  or  a  wise  adage  that  saves  or  ruins;  it  is 
the  quick  resolve  which  breaks  forth  from  within  like  an 
uncontrollable  impulse  of  nature  and  which  is  yet  pro- 
duced by  the  compulsion  of  their  whole  past  lives — by 
all  that  man  knows  and  believes,  by  all  that  he  has 
suffered  and  done.  What  forces  us  to  the  good  or  the  bad 


134  THE    LOST   MANUSCRIPT. 

in  the  sombre  hours  of  trial,  people  call  character,  and 
the  changing  steps  of  the  wayfarer  through  life  as  he 
seeks  his  way  amid  difficulty  and  danger,  the  specta- 
tor at  the  play  calls  dramatic  movement. 

He  only  who  has  wandered  amid  the  flitting  shad- 
ows of  night,  and  has  seriously  listened  to  the  secret 
admonitions  of  his  inmost  soul,  can  fully  understand 
the  spirit  of  others  who,  in  a  similar  position,  have 
sought  to  extricate  themselves  from  an  intricate  laby- 
rinth, and  have  found  safety  or  met  destruction. 

Use,  too,  had  experienced  hours  of  fleeting  terrors; 
she  also  had  trembled  as  to  whether  she  had  pursued 
the  right  path. 

The  seventh  tragedy  of  the  Greek  poet  had  been 
read;  the  boldest  representation  of  bitter  passion  and 
bloody  revenge.  Use  sat  mute  and  horrified  at  the 
outbreak  of  fearful  hatred  from  the  heart  of  Electra. 
Then  her  husband,  in  order  to  recall  her  to  less  anx- 
ious thoughts,  began:  "  Now  you  have  heard  all  that 
remains  to  us  of  the  art  and  power  of  a  wonderful  po- 
etical mind,  and  you  must  tell  me  which  of  his  char- 
acters has  most  attracted  you." 

"  If  you  mean  that  in  which  the  power  of  his  po- 
etry has  most  impressed  me,  it  is  always  the  newest 
form  which  has  appeared  to  me  the  greatest,  and  to- 
day it  is  the  monstrous  conception  of  Electra.  But  if 
you  ask  which  has  pleased  me  most — " 

"  The  gentle  Ismene?"  interrupted  the  Professor, 
laughing. 

Use  shook  her  head.  "  No,  it  is  the  valiant  son  of 
Achilles.  At  first  he  was  tempted  to  yield  to  the  cun- 
ning counsel  of  his  confederate,  and  do  violence  to  an 
unfortunate  fellow-creature;  but  after  a  long  struggle 


THE    DRAMA.  135 

his  noble  nature  conquers:  he  sees  that  it  will  be 
wrong,  and  he  asserts  his  manhood  by  refusing." 

The  Professor  closed  the  book,  and  looked  with 
astonishment  at  his  wife. 

"There  is,"  continued  Use,  "in  the  greatest  charac- 
ters of  your  Greek  poet  a  stern  rigidity  that  fright- 
ens me.  Something  is  wanting  in  all  to  make  them 
like  us;  they  do  not  doubt  as  we  do,  nor  struggle;  even 
when  they  do  right,  their  greatness  consists  in  their 
immovable  determination  to  do  something  fearful,  or 
rigid  persistence  in  stemming  a  terrible  fate.  But 
while  we  expect  that  the  strong  man  shall  act  power- 
fully, according  to  his  nature,  either  for  good  or  evil, 
he  does  not  gain  our  full  human  sympathy,  unless  we 
have  the  certainty  that  he  experiences  an  inward 
struggle  such  as  we  may  ourselves  feel." 

"Such  as  we  may  ourselves  feel?"  asked  the  Pro- 
fessor, seriously,  laying  aside  the  book.  "How  do  you 
come  by  this  experience?  Have  you,  Use,  some  secret 
from  your  husband?" 

Use  rose  and  looked  at  him  with  dismay. 

But  the  Professor  continued,  cheerfully:  "  I  will 
first  tell  you  why  I  ask,  and  what  I  would  like  to  know 
from  you.  When  I  brought  you  from  your  country- 
home  you  were,  in  spite  of  your  deep  German  feeling, 
in  many  respects  just  such  as  we  like  to  picture  to  our- 
selves Nausicaa  and  Penelope.  You  freely  received 
impressions  from  the  world  around  you;  you  stood 
sure  and  strong  in  a  firmly-bound  sphere  of  right  and 
duty;  with  childlike  trust  you  gathered  from  the  moral 
habits  of  your  circle,  and  from  Holy  Scripture,  your 
standard  of  judgment  and  conduct.  Your  love  for  me, 
and  contact  with  other  souls,  and  the  insight  into  a 
new  sphere  of  knowledge,  awakened  in  your  heart 


136  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

passionate  vibrations;  uncertainty  came,  and  then 
doubt;  new  thoughts  struggled  against  old  impres- 
sions, the  demands  of  your  new  life  against  the  tenor 
of  your  maiden  years.  You  were  for  months  more  un- 
happy than  I  had  any  idea  of.  But  now,  when  I  have 
been  rejoicing  in  your  cheerful  repose  of  mind,  I  find 
you  have  acquired  a  knowledge  of  human  nature  that 
astonishes  me.  I  have  often  lately  seen,  with  secret 
pleasure,  how  warmly  you  have  sympathized  with, 
and  how  mildly  you  have  judged,  the  characters  of 
the  drama.  I  had  expected  that  their  hard  and  mon- 
strous fate  would  have  been  repulsive  to  you,  and  that 
you  would  have  felt  rapid  transitions  from  tenderness 
to  aversion.  But  you  have  sympathy  with  the  dark 
forms  as  well  as  with  the  bright,  as  if  your  soul  had 
begun  to  anticipate  that  in  one's  own  life,  good  and 
evil,  blessing  and  curse,  might  be  associated,  and  as 
if  you  had  yourself  experienced  that  man  has  not 
to  follow  an  outward  moral  law  alone,  however  exalted 
its  origin,  but  that  he  may  at  some  period  be  compelled 
to  seek  for  some  other  law  in  the  depths  of  his  own 
soul.  But  such  an  insight  men  can  only  attain  when 
they  themselves  experience  danger  and  trouble.  It 
is  improbable  that  this  should  have  been  the  case  with 
you,  unless  you  have  gone  through  some  experience 
to  which  I  have  been  a  stranger.  I  do  not  wish  to  urge 
your  confidence;  I  know  what  trust  I  can  repose  in 
you;  but  if  you  think  fit,  I  would  gladly  know  what 
has  given  rise  to  this  sensitive  feeling  for  the  secret 
struggles  of  men  who  are  hurried  along  by  a  tragic 
fate." 

Use  seized  him  by  the  hand  and  drew  him  into  her 
room.  "  It  was  on  this  spot,"  she  exclaimed,  "  a 
stranger  asked  me  whether  he  should  expose  himself 


THE    DRAMA.  137 

to  the  danger  of  death  for  the  sake  of  his  honor,  or 
whether  he  should  expose  another  in  his  place.  I  had 
given  him  a  right  to  ask  such  a  question,  for  I  had  be- 
fore spoken  to  him  of  his  life  with  greater  frankness 
than  was  prudent  for  a  careful  woman.  I  stood  and 
struggled  against  the  question  that  he  put  to  me,  but 
I  could  not  refuse  to  answer;  and,  Felix,  to  tell  you 
the  truth,  I  did  not  wish  to  do  so.  I  gave  him  counsel 
which  might  have  brought  him  to  a  bloody  end.  I  gave 
him  that  advice  secretly,  and  I  became  entangled  in  a 
fatal  web  from  which  I  could  not  extricate  myself.  I 
thought  of  you,  but  I  did  not  dare  to  tell  you,  as  you 
must  either  have  been  unfaithful  to  the  duties  of  your 
office,  or  you  must  for  ever  have  wounded  the  honor- 
able feelings  of  another.  I  questioned  our  holy  teach- 
ings: they  told  me  only  that  my  advice  was  sinful.  I  was 
unhappy,  Felix,  that  I  had  come  into  this  position,  but 
still  more  unhappy  that  neither  you  nor  the  teachings 
of  my  faith  could  help  me  out  of  it.  It  was  no  merit 
of  mine  that  things  turned  out  better  than  I  feared 
they  would.  Since  that  I  have  known,  Felix,  what 
struggles  of  conscience  are;  now  you  know  the  only 
secret  that  I  have  ever  had  from  you.  If  I  did  wrong, 
judge  me  mildly,  for  by  all  that  is  sacred  I  could  not 
have  done  otherwise." 

"And  the  Prince?"  asked  her  husband,  softly. 

"He  is  a  good  and  gentle  soul,  an  immature  man, 
while  I  was  your  wife.  With  him  there  was  no  doubt 
and  no  struggle." 

"I  know  enough,  you  earnest,  high-minded  wom- 
an," said  the  Professor,  "I  see  that,  as  against  your 
knowledge  of  life,  I  can  now  pack  up  my  books.  For 
of  what  value  is  the  teaching  of  books,  however  good 
they  may  be,  in  comparison  to  that  of  life.  A  foolish 


138  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

student's  duel,  in  which  you  were  the  invisible  adviser, 
has  done  more,  perhaps  to  form  your  mind,  than  my 
prudent  words  would  have  done  in  the  course  of  years. 
Be  of  good  courage,  Lady  Use  of  Bielstein;  whatever 
fate  may  still  await  us,  I  know  now  that  you  are 
fitted  for  inward  struggles,  and  we  need  not  be  solici- 
tous about  dangers  from  without.  For,  however  much 
we  human  beings  may  be  troubled  and  agitated  here  on 
earth,  he  who  has  once  learnt  to  know  himself  so  well 
that  he  is  able  to  read  the  secret  writing  of  other  souls, 
is  well  protected  against  the  temptations  of  the 
world." 

What  the  German  scholar  said  as  he  now  so  warmly 
clasped  his  wife  in  his  arms  was  not  amiss,  only  it  is 
a  pity  that  we  have  no  certainty  of  reading  the  secrets 
of  other  souls;  and  it  is  a  pity  that  the  greatest 
knowledge  of  the  secret  writing  in  the  souls  of  others 
cannot  serve  us  in  warding  off  the  storms  of  our  own 
passions. 


The  Chamberlain,  who  now  acted  as  marshal  to 
the  Hereditary  Prince,  was  holding  a  conference  with 
his  father  upon  the  concerns  of  his  office.  Among 
other  things  there  was  also  the  question  of  promoting 
Kriiger,  of  butter-machine  fame,  to  higher  honors 
and,  what  was  of  no  less  importance,  to  the  full  salary 
due  the  valet  of  an  Hereditary  Prince.  Contrary  to  ex- 
pectations the  Sovereign  was  ready  to  agree  to  his  pro- 
posals, and  the  Chamberlain,  pleased  at  the  gracious 
humor  of  his  master,  was  about  to  take  leave,  when 
the  Sovereign  stopped  him  by  the  kind  remark,  "Your 
sister  Malwine,  looks  ill;  does  she  dance  too  much? 
You  should  take  care  of  her  delicate  health;  nothing 
would  be  more  injurious  to  such  a  constitution  than 


THE    DRAMA.  139 

an  early  marriage.  I  hope  to  see  her  pleasant  coim  • 
tenance  at  Court  for  a  long  time  yet." 

Now  Fraulein  Malwine  was  secretly  betrothed  to  one 
of  the  Sovereign's  officers;  it  was  known  at  Court  and 
in  the  city,  but  the  betrothed  were  poor,  and  the  con- 
sent of  the  Sovereign  was  necessary  for  their  union.  In 
order  to  obtain  this  it  was  advisable  to  await  a  favor- 
able opportunity.  Therefore  the  Chamberlain  was 
alarmed  at  his  master's  words;  he  perceived  a  secret 
threat  in  them,  and  while  he  thanked  him  for  his 
gracious  sympathy,  his  face  betrayed  his  dismay. 

After  the  Sovereign,  by  this  short  turn  of  the  peg,  had 
tuned  the  strings  of  his  instrument,  he  continued,  with 
indifference:  "If  you  have  a  quarter  of  an  hour  to 
spare,  I  wish  you  to  accompany  me  into  the  cabinet 
of  antiquities." 

They  passed  through  corridors  and  halls  into  a 
distant  part  of  the  castle,  where,  on  an  upper  floor,  a 
large  collection  of  old  coins,  carved  stones,  and  other 
minor  relics  of  Greek  and  Roman  times,  were  ar- 
ranged. Many  generations  of  rulers  had  contributed 
to  it,  but  the  greatest  part  had  been  brought  by  the 
Sovereign  himself  when  returning  from  his  travels.  He 
had,  in  former  years,  taken  great  interest  in  the  ar- 
rangement of  these  things,  and  spent  large  sums  in 
purchasing  others;  but  gradually  this  fancy  had  passed 
off,  and  for  years  the  feather  brush  of  the  curator  had 
only  removed  the  dust  for  occasional  strangers  who 
had  happened  accidentally  to  hear  of  this  almost  un- 
known collection,  and  had  honored  it  with  a  visit. 

The  Chamberlain,  therefore  accompanied  his  mas- 
ter with  the  feeling  that  this  unusual  idea  signified 
something;  and  he  felt  a  gloomy  anticipation  that  what 
was  impending  boded  no  good.  The  Sovereign  re- 


140  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

turned  with  a  nod  the  low  obeisance  of  the  dilapidated 
curator;  he  passed  in  review  the  long  rows  of 
rooms,  had  some  cases  opened  for  him,  took  in 
his  hand  the  written  catalogue,  and  examined  care- 
fully the  gold  coins  of  Alexander  the  Great  and 
his  successors,  and  inspected  a  collection  of  old  glass 
vessels  and  vases,  in  which  the  artistic  work  of 
the  ancient  glass-cutters  was  particularly  striking. 
Then  he  asked  for  the  strangers'  book,  in  which  the 
names  of  the  visitors  were  recorded.  After  he  had 
sent  the  man  away  with  a  commission,  he  began,  to 
his  attendant:  "  The  collection  is  less  seen  that  it  de- 
serves; I  have  long  thought  of  having  it  made  better 
known  and  more  useful  to  men  of  learning,  by  a  bet- 
ter arrangement  and  a  good  catalogue.  It  has  been 
one  of  the  little  pleasures  of  my  life;  I  have  learnt 
much  by  it,  and  it  has  at  times  banished  annoyances 
from  my  mind.  Do  you  know  of  any  one  who  would 
be  fitted  to  undertake  the  management  of  a  work  so 
important  and  exacting?" 

The  Chamberlain  bethought  himself,  but  no  one 
occurred  to  him. 

"  I  should  prefer  a  stranger,"  continued  the  Sov- 
ereign. "  That  will  give  rise  to  a  passing  and  unem- 
barrassed connection.  He  must  of  course  be  learned 
and  have  good  guarantees  of  character." 

The  Chamberlain  named  several  connoiseurs  from 
other  capitals.  The  Sovereign  looked  at  him  keenly, 
and  shook  his  head.  "  Think  it  over,"  he  repeated; 
"  perhaps  some  one  will  occur  to  you." 

The  examination  continued.  An  antique  vase  inter- 
ested the  Sovereign  by  reminding  him  of  how  he  had 
obtained  it.  A  Roman  woman,  of  great  beauty  and  com- 
manding figure,  had  suddenly  confronted  him  and  of- 


THE    DRAMA.  14! 

fered  it  to  him  with  such  a  distinguished  manner,  that 
he,  as  he  laughingly  expressed  it,  was  so  surprised  by 
the  unusual  demeanor  of  the  woman,  and  her  sonorous 
voice,  that  he  paid  her  more  than  she  asked. 

No  one  yet  occurred  to  the  Chamberlain. 

On  his  way  back  to  his  apartments  the  Sovereign 
remained  standing  in  one  of  the  spacious  but  lonely 
halls  and  asked  the  Chamberlain,  "Has  it  not  oc- 
curred to  you  that  Scarletti  dresses  badly?" 

The  Chamberlain  dissented,  for  the  actress  men- 
tioned was  supposed  to  be  in  favor. 

"Yesterday  evening  she  carried  an  immense  bou- 
quet. To  which  of  our  young  men  is  this  ungraceful 
attention  to  be  ascribed?" 

Again  the  Chamberlain  was  astounded. 

"As  you  are  disposed  to  know  nothing  to-day,"  con- 
tinued the  Sovereign,  in  a  sharp  tone,  "  I  must  tell 
you  that  I  should  be  sorry  to  see  the  Hereditary  Prince 
having  any  intercourse  whatever  with  the  ladies  of 
the  theatre.  He  is  not  old  enough  to  carry  on  such 
connections  with  the  necessary  reserve;  and  the  vanity 
of  these  ladies  will  bring  every  favor  to  public 
notice." 

The  Chamberlain  affirmed,  upon  his  honor,  that  he 
knew  nothing  of  these  civilities  of  the  Hereditary 
Prince,  and  that,  even  if  the  assumption  of  his  gracious 
master  was  well  founded,  it  could  only  have  been  a 
passing  idea  of  the  Prince  that  had  occasioned  this 
gift.  "Your  Highness  will  be  convinced  that  I  would 
not  lend  a  hand  to  anything  of  this  kind." 

"  But  I  do  not  choose  that  you  should  close  your 
eyes  to  it,"  continued  the  Sovereign,  bitterly;  "you 
stood  in  the  box  behind  the  Hereditary  Prince,  and 
you  must  have  seen  the  coquettish  look  of  admiration 


142  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

which  she  cast  upon  him.  The  present  was  probably 
sent  by  the  new  valet;  let  him  know  that  in  my  service 
one  does  not  carry  two  faces  under  one  hood.  But  I 
require  of  you,"  he  continued,  more  calmly,  "that  you 
should  redouble  your  vigilance.  What  occupies  him 
now?" 

"He  attends  regularly  the  small  evening  parties 
of  the  Princess." 

"And  in  the  day?"  added  the  Sovereign,  continu- 
ing the  examination. 

"As  your  Highness  knows,  he  is  fond  of  music; 
he  plays  duets  with  the  music-master." 

"What  does  he  read?" 

The  Chamberlain  named  some  French  books. 
"May  I  be  allowed  humbly  to  make  a  proposal?  It 
would,  in  every  point  of  view,  be  useful  to  his  High- 
ness if  he  had  the  pleasure  of  devising  or  arranging 
something — perhaps  the  laying  out  of  a  park,  or  the 
management  of  a  farm.  I  venture  to  suggest  that  a 
similar  occupation  has  been  found  advantageous  to 
young  princes  at  other  courts.  Perhaps  one  of  your 
Highness's  castles  could  be  adapted  for  such  a  pur- 
pose." 

"And  the  Hereditary  Prince  and  Mr.  von  Weidegg 
would  keep  their  own  court,  and  remain  many  months 
in  the  year  far  from  ours,  at  their  villa,"  replied  the 
Sovereign. 

"I  assure  your  Highness  that  I  never  thought  of 
such  a  thing,"  answered  the  Chamberlain,  offended. 

"I  do  not  blame  you,"  replied  the  Sovereign,  with 
cutting  courtesy.  "Consideration  for  my  coffers  for- 
bids my  assenting  to  your  proposal;  but  I  shall  think  of 
it.  It  is  a  disappointment  to  me  that  the  Prince  has 
not  learned  to  take  an  interest  in  anything  during  his 


THE    DRAMA.  143 

stay  at  the  University.  Has  he  had  no  personal  re- 
lations during  that  time  that  may  have  given  some 
zest  to  his  life?" 

"He  took  great  pleasure  in  the  circle  of  Profes- 
sor Werner,"  replied  the  good  Chamberlain,  hesita- 
tingly. 

"I  hope  he  preserves  a  grateful  recollection  of  his 
teacher." 

"He  speaks  with  great  interest  of  him  and  his 
family,"  rejoined  the  Chamberlain. 

"  It  is  well,"  concluded  the  Sovereign.  "  I  will  take 
into  consideration  the  question  of  agricultural  occu- 
pation; and  do  not  forget  to  think  a  little  concerning 
my  collection." 

This  new  demand  could  no  longer  be  withstood  by 
the  Chamberlain;  he  was  silent  for  some  minutes,  in- 
wardly struggling,  while  the  Sovereign  moved  on  with 
his  head  turned  towards  him,  like. one  who  waits  for 
something  decisive. 

"  I  do  not  know  that  I  can  propose  any  one  better 
for  the  purpose  than  Professor  Werner  himself,"  said 
the  Chamberlain,  at  last. 

The  Sovereign  again  stopped.  "You  consider  him 
fitted  for  the  work  ?" 

"With  respect  to  his  scientific  capabilities  I  natur- 
ally can  form  no  judgment,"  replied  the  Chamberlain, 
cautiously. 

Irritated  by  this  cowardly  attempt  to  draw  back, 
the  Sovereign  asked  with  emphasis,  "Would  he  un- 
dertake such  a  charge?" 

"  He  has  a  very  distinguished  position  at  the  Uni- 
versity, and  is  happily  married;  and  he  would,  un- 
doubtedly, not  like  to  leave  his  present  position  for 
any  length  of  time." 


144  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

"Perhaps  that  may  be  arranged,"  rejoined  the 
Sovereign.  "Werner,  then,  is  the  man.  At  a  short 
interview  I  accidentally  had  with  him  he  made  a  good 
impression  on  me.  Do  not  forget  to  remind  me  this 
evening  that  the  archives  at  Bielstein  are  to  be 
searched." 

Thus  did  a  father  exert  himself  for  the  benefit  of 
his  son. 

The  Chamberlain  reminded  his  lord  that  evening 
that  there  had  been  a  question  of  an  investigation  in 
the  archives  of  Bielstein,  and  the  sovereign  thanked 
him  for  it.  The  following  morning  orders  were  given 
through  the  Council  to  the  keepers  of  the  records  and 
members  of  other  branches  of  the  Court  and  State  ad- 
ministration, to  seek  out  and  send  all  records  of  a  cer- 
tain age  that  had  reference  to  the  castle  of  Bielstein 
and  monastery  of  Rossau.  This  order  occasioned  a 
great  raising  of  dust,  and  five  large  leather  sacks  were 
filled  with  records  and  old  papers.  The  collection  was 
sent  to  the  Professor;  and  in  a  letter  the  Sovereign 
expressed  his  thanks  for  the  attentions  which  the  Pro- 
fessor had  shown  the  Hereditary  Prince.  He  added 
that,  remembering  a  former  conversation,  he  sent  for 
his  inspection  all  that,  in  a  cursory  search,  could  be 
found  concerning  a  place  in  which  he  took  an  interest. 

This  letter  gave  cause  for  serious  consideration 
to  two  inquiring  minds.  When  the  dubious  report  of 
the  student  concerning  an  existing  chest  had  disturbed 
the  peace  of  the  house,  the  friends  had  again  turned 
their  attention  to  the  inventory  of  the  deceased  Bach- 
huber,  and  had  once  more  pondered  over  every  word 
of  it:  "  In  a  hollow  and  dry  place,  LOCO  CAVO  ET  sicco." 
The  word  place,  locus,  occasioned  much  thought;  but 
they  could  come  to  no  certainty  about  it.  "Of  the  house 


THE    DRAMA.  14.5 

of  Bielstein,  DOMUS  BIELSTEYN!  " — here  the  expression 
house,  domus,  was  very  remarkable.  Did  it  mean  that 
the  manuscript  lay  concealed  in  the  dwelling  house 
itself,  or  was  the  word  house  used  in  the  obsolete 
meaning  of  estate  or  property?  The  Doctor  contended 
for  the  dwelling-house,  the  Professor  for  the  estate. 
Much  depended  upon  this;  for  if  domus  signified  es- 
tate, the  manuscript  might  be  concealed  in  any  part 
of  the  property.  "  I  have  deposited  it  all,  hcec  omnia 
deposui!"  The  word  all,  omnia,  was  very  comforting; 
for  it  gave  the  certainty  that  the  deceased  Bachhuber 
had  not  left  the  manuscript  behind.  But  the  deposit- 
ing was  a  matter  of  some  doubt.  Did  the  word  betoken 
that  the  manuscript  was  deposited  only  fn  Bielstein, 
and  thus  given  over  and  entrusted,  so  to  speak, 
to  the  inhabitants? — or  had  the  writer  chosen  the  ex- 
pression because  he  wished  to  signify  the  interring 
and  blocking  it  up  in  some  deep  place?  To  us  lay- 
men in  the  Latin  tongue,  it  appears  clear  indeed 
that  Bachhuber  was  very  glad  to  have  a  Latin  vocabu- 
lary in  which  to  signify  the  concealment  of  his  treasure; 
however,  the  feeling  of  the  learned  men  was  otherwise. 
Finally,  the  friends  agreed  in  taking  the  view,  that, 
in  spite  of  this  account,  the  walls  of  the  house  were 
worthy  of  future  attention.  The  hollow  places  which 
the  Doctor  had  registered  might  be  examined;  the 
cupboard  in  the  wall  in  Use's  bedroom  appeared  a 
place  not  to  be  despised.  The  Professor,  therefore, 
determined  to  obtain  some  certainty  on  that  point  dur- 
ing the  next  vacation.  The  business  of  the  Rector  had 
only  allowed  a  short  visit  to  the  castle  this  time;  but 
the  Professor  would  be  aided  by  his  position  in  the 
family,  which  opened  Use's  room  and  cupboard  to 
him. 


146  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

It  was  a  fine  August  day;  the  father  was  riding 
about  in  his  fields,  and  Use  sitting  with  Clara  in  house- 
hold consultation,  when  an  uproar  was  raised  in  the 
kitchen,  and  the  housekeeper,  quite  beside  herself, 
rushed  into  the  sitting-room,  exclaiming:  "There  are 
ghosts  around  again!"  There  was,  in  fact,  a  loud 
knocking  in  the  house,  and  the  maids  congregated  in 
the  hall.  The  noise  came  from  the  upper  story;  so  Use 
hastened  upstairs,  and,  on  opening  the  door  to  her 
room,  found  the  Professor,  in  his  shirt  sleeves,  working 
in  the  cupboard  with  various  tools  he  had  obtained 
from  the  carpenter.  He  received  her,  laughing,  and 
called  out,  to  tranquilize  her,  that  he  was  nailing  the 
cupboard  boards  tighter.  This  was  right,  but  he  had 
first  broken  through  them.  The  manuscript  was  not 
there,  and  nothing  was  to  be  seen  but  an  empty  space 
and  a  few  bits  of  mortar.  There  was,  however,  one  in- 
explicable thing,  which  might  be  a  trace  of  the  manu- 
script— a  small  bit  of  blue  cloth  rag;  how  that  had 
come  into  the  wall  was  a  riddle.  On  further  examina- 
tion, it  appeared  that  it  was  not  colored  with  indigo; 
therefore,  probably,  it  had  existed  previous  to  the  in- 
troduction of  that  color  into  civilization.  Whether  a 
mouse,  in  her  motherly  care,  had  deposited  it  there  as 
an  ornament  to  her  bed,  and  at  the  same  time  for  food 
in  a  desperate  case  of  necessity,  could  not  be  ascer- 
tained, as  at  present  these  folk  seem  to  have  no  tradi- 
tions of  the  past,  and  the  individual  had  probably 
been  eaten  some  centuries  ago  by  an  ancestor  of  one 
of  our  cats. 

This  discovery  might  have  given  confidence  to  the 
friends,  for  there  were  now  two  places  where  the  trea- 
sure was  not.  But  there  is  much  that  is  illogical  in 
the  nature  of  men.  Even  the  Doctor  inclined  now  to 


THE    DRAMA.  147 

the  Professor's  opinion,  that  the  manuscript  was  per- 
haps not  concealed  in  the  house;  nay,  that  it  might 
even  be  at  a  distance  from  the  place. 

Such  was  the  state  of  the  matter  when  the  Sover- 
eign's packet  arrived.  The  friends  were  occupied 
many  hours  with  the  trunks,  and  examined  the  records 
carefully.  They  found  much  that  would  be  valuable 
for  the  history  of  the  district,  but  nothing  that  led  to 
the  manuscript.  At  last,  the  Professor  raised  from  the 
bottom  of  one  of  the  trunks  a  thick  bundle  of  reports,  on 
sheets  sewed  together,  which  had  been  sent  by  the  of- 
ficials of  Bielstein  to  the  Government.  Among  them 
was  the  writing  of  a  deputy-bailiff  of  the  last  century, 
in  which  he  notified  that  he  was  hastening,  in  those 
times  of  suspense  and  danger,  commanded  by  high 
authority,  to  convey  to  the  royal  country  residence, 
Solitude,  the  chestful  of  hunting  implements  and  old 
books  which  had  up  to  that  time  been  in  his  custody. 

The  writer  of  the  letter  had  undoubtedly  not  fore- 
seen what  an  excitement  his  faded  scroll  would  produce 
in  a  later  generation. 

"  This  is  the  student's  chest,"  cried  the  Professor, 
the  color  rising  to  his  cheeks,  while  he  held  out  the 
document  to  his  friend. 

"Remarkable!"  said  the  Doctor.  "It  is  impossible 
that  this  coincidence  can  be  accidental." 

"  The  student's  chest  was  no  will  o'  the  wisp,"  cried 
the  Professor  to  his  wife,  in  her  room;  "here  is  the 
confirmation." 

"Where  is  the  chest?"  inquired  Use,  skeptically. 

"That  is  just  what  we  do  not  know,"  replied  the 
Professor,  laughing.  "  Here  is  a  new  scent,  indistinct, 
and  in  a  new  direction;  but  it  may  lead  shortly  to  the 
vanished  parchment."  The  friends  hastened  back 


148  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

eagerly  to  the  bundle  of  records.  "Old  books!"  ex- 
claimed the  Doctor;  "the  house  was  a  hunting  castle; 
a  generation  before  this  letter  was  written,  the  estate 
came  first  into  the  possession  of  this  princely  family; 
it  is  not  probable  that  they  themselves,  in  their  short 
hunting  visits,  should  have  collected  books  there." 

"Old  books!"  exclaimed  also  the  Professor;  "it  is 
possible  that  hunting  journals  and  accounts  may  be 
meant;  but  it  is  not  impossible  that  the  chest  may  also 
contain  some  few  things  of  the  property  of  the  mon- 
astery. Use,  where  is  the  old  castle  belonging  to  your 
Sovereign  called  Solitude?" 

Use  knew  nothing  of  such  a  castle. 

"It  is  a  fortunate  coincidence  that  the  Sovereign 
himself  may  give  us  an  opportunity  of  obtaining  more 
accurate  information." 

"Ah,  you  poor  men!"  said  Use,  through  the  door, 
pityingly.  "Now  you  are  far  worse  than  before;  as 
long  as  the  treasure  was  still  supposed  to  be  in  our 
house,  my  father  at  least  could  keep  a  good  look  out; 
but  now,  it  is  in  a  chest  far  away  in  the  wide  world, 
and  no  one  knows  anything  even  of  the  house  to  which 
it  may  have  been  carried." 

The  friends  laughed  again.  "Your  father's  house 
is  not  on  that  account  less  under  suspicion,"  said  her 
husband,  consolingly. 

The  Professor  sent  back  the  contents  of  the  chest 
to  the  Royal  Council,  expressed  in  his  letter  his  warm 
thanks  to  the  Sovereign,  and  mentioned  that  an  un- 
certain trace  made  him  very  desirous  of  obtaining  per- 
mission to  make  personal  investigations. 

The  letter  had  the  desired  result  for  both  parties. 
The  Sovereign  had  the  satisfaction,  which  is  pleasing 


THE    DRAMA.  149 

to    earthly   masters,  of   appearing  to  confer  a  favor 
while  he  was  seeking  one. 

The  Professor  was  joyfully  surprised  when  he  re- 
ceived from  the  Council  in  the  name  of  the  Sovereign 
a  letter  promising  to  promote  his  investigations  in 
every  way,  and  making  the  following  proposal:  The 
Sovereign  wished  his  cabinet  of  antiquities  to  be  ex- 
amined by  a  scientific  authority,  and  there  was  no  one 
to  whom  he  would  more  willingly  trust  this  task  than 
to  the  Professor.  He  knew  well  how  valuable  to  others 
was  the  work  of  so  learned  a  man,  but  he  hoped  that 
his  collection  might  appear  of  sufficient  importance 
to  him  to  spend  a  few.  weeks  upon  it. 

At  the  same  time  the  Chamberlain  wrote,  by  desire 
of  his  gracious  master,  that  the  Sovereign  would  be 
delighted  if  the  Professor  would  accept  the  hospitality 
of  the  Palace  during  the  time  of  his  stay.  A  garden 
pavilion,  which  was  a  pleasant  spring-residence,  would 
be  at  his  disposition.  The  dwelling  was  large  enough 
to  receive  his  family  also,  and  he  was  commanded  to 
suggest  that  there  would  be  plenty  of  room  if  the  Pro- 
fessor would  bring  his  wife  and  servants,  as  the  Sov- 
ereign did  not  wish  that  the  learned  man  should  be 
deprived  of  his  domestic  comforts  during  his  stay. 
The  beginning  of  the  spring  would  be  the  best  time 
for  both  parties;  and  the  Chamberlain  would  be  de- 
lighted to  do  the  honors  of  the  capital  to  his  country- 
woman. 

The  Professor  hastened  with  flying  steps  to  hist 
wife,  and  laid  the  letter  in  her  lap.  "  Here,  read  what 
endangers  our  journey  into  foreign  lands.  It  will  en- 
gross the  greatest  part  of  our  traveling  time.  But  I 
must  accept  the  invitation;  for  any  prospect,  even  the 
most  distant,  of  obtaining  the  manuscript  compels  me 


150  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

to  stake  much  that  a  man  will  only  sacrifice  for  a  great 
hope.  Will  you  accompany  me  on  this  chase?  You 
see,  the  kind  people  have  thought  of  everything." 

"la  guest  of  our  Sovereign!"  exclaimed  Use,  read- 
ing the  letter.  "  Never  should  I  have  dreamt  of  such 
an  honor.  What  will  my  father  say  of  it!  It  is  a  very 
honorable  invitation  for  you,"  she  continued,  seriously; 
"  and  you  must  at  all  events  accept  it.  As  for  me,  I 
think  it  may  be  best  for  me  to  remain  here." 

"  Why  should  we  be  separated  for  weeks? — it  would 
be  the  first  time." 

"  Send  me  to  my  father  meanwhile." 

"  Does  not  that  come  to  the  same  thing?"  asked 
the  Professor. 

"  What  shall  I  do  among  these  strangers?"  contin- 
ued Use,  anxiously. 

"Nonsense,"  replied  the  Professor.  "Have  you  any 
reason  to  give?"  and  he  looked  at  her,  discomposed. 

"  I  cannot  say  that  I  have,"  replied  Use. 

"  Then  decide  at  once,  and  come.  We  should  prob- 
ably feel  more  free  if  we  could  live  as  we  liked;  but  I 
should  not  wish  to  reside  for  weeks  at  a  hotel  in  a  for- 
eign city;  and,  from  another  point  of  view,  this  reception 
will  save  both  parties  the  difficulty  of  offering  and  re- 
fusing compensation.  We  shall  remain  there  as  long 
as  is  indispensably  necessary;  then  we  shall  go  south, 
as  far  as  we  can.  It  is,  after  all,  only  putting  off  the 
journey  a  few  weeks." 

When  the  Professor's  letter  of  acceptance  arrived, 
the  Chamberlain  informed  the  Sovereign  of  it  in  pres- 
ence of  the  Marshal:-  "See  to  it  that  the  pavilion  is 
arranged  as  comfortably  as  possible.  Dinner  will  be 
served  at  the  pavilion  at  whatever  hour  the  Professor- 
wishes." 


THE    DRAMA.  151 

"  And  what  position  does  your  Highness  intend  the 
strangers  shall  occupy  at  Court?"  inquired  the  Marshal. 

"  That  is  understood,"  said  the  Sovereign;  he  has 
the  privilege  of  a  stranger,  and  will  occasionally  be  in- 
vited to  small  dinners." 

"  But  the  Professor's  wife?"  asked  the  Marshal. 

"  Ah!"  said  the  Sovereign,  "  the  wife.  It  is  true,  she 
comes  with  him." 

"  Then,"  continued  the  Marshal,  "  there  is  to  be 
dinner  for  two  at  the  pavilion;  apartments  for  two,  and 
a  room  for  a  lackey  without  livery." 

"  That  is  enough,"  said  the  Sovereign;  "  for  the 
rest,  we  shall  see.  If  the  Professor's  wife  visits  our 
ladies,  I  assume  they  will  return  the  civility.  We  will 
leave  the  rest  to  the  Princess." 

"What  is  the  history  of  these  strangers?"  asked 
the  Marshal  of  the  Chamberlain.  "  You  know  the 
people." 

"  As  one  knows  people  in  a  strange  city,"  replied 
the  Chamberlain. 

"  But  you  arranged  their  coming?" 

"  I  only  wrote  according  to  the  Sovereign's  orders. 
The  Professor  is  a  learned  man  of  reputation,  and  a 
thorough  gentleman." 

"But  what  has  his  wife  to  do  here." 

The  Chamberlain  shrugged  his  shoulders.  "  He 
could  not  be  got  without  his  wife,"  he  replied,  cau- 
tiously. 

"Yet  the  Sovereign  made  a  point  of  her  coming." 

"Did  that  strike  you?"  asked  the  Chamberlain.  "  I, 
for  my  part,  did  not  remark  it.  He  made  it  appear  as 
if  it  were  a  matter  of  indifference  to  him;  and,  fur- 
thermore, she  is  a  country-woman  of  his." 

"You  know  that  the  Sovereign  would  be  the  last 


152  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

to  infringe  the  rules  of  the  Court.  There  is  no  reason 
for  anxiety." 

"  At  all  events,  the  Princess  must  maintain  her  posi- 
tion. I  hear  this  Professor's  wife  is  considered  a 
beauty?" 

"  I  believe  she  is  also  a  woman  of  high  character," 
replied  the  Chamberlain. 

The  Professor  received  the  desired  permission. 
Use  made  her  preparations  for  the  journey  with  a  sol- 
emn seriousness  which  struck  all  around  her.  She 
was  now  to  approach  the  presence  of  her  Sovereign, 
whom  she  had  regarded  from  a  distance  with  shy  re- 
spect. It  made  her  heart  heavy  to  think  that  the  son 
had  never  spoken  of  his  father,  and  that  she  knew 
nothing  of  her  illustrious  master  but  his  countenance 
and  manner.  She  asked  herself,  anxiously:  "  How 
will  he  treat  Felix  and  me?" 

Whilst  Felix  was  collecting  all  the  books  and  doc- 
uments which  were  indispensable  for  the  journey,  the 
Doctor  was  standing  sorrowfully  in  his  friend's  room. 
He  was  satisfied  that  the  Professor  could  not  with- 
draw from  the  duty  of  seeking  for  the  manuscript;  and 
yet  his  invitation  to  Court  did  not  please  him.  The 
sudden  breaking  of  their  tranquil  life  disturbed  him, 
and  he  sometimes  looked  anxiously  at  Use. 

Laura  sat,  the  last  evening,  near  Use,  leaning  on 
her  shoulder,  weeping.  "  It  appears  to  me,"  said  the 
latter,  "  that  something  portentous  lies  in  my  path, 
and  I  go  in  fear.  But  I  leave  you  without  anxiety  for 
your  future,  although  you  have  sometimes  made  me 
uneasy,  you  stubborn  little  puss;  for  I  know  there  is 
one  who  will  always  be  your  best  adviser,  even  though 
you  should  seldom  see  each  other." 

"  I   lose  him  when  I    lose  you,"  cried  Laura,   in 


THE    DRAMA.  153 

tears.  "All  vanishes  that  has  been  the  happiness  of 
my  life.  In  the  little  garden  which  I  have  secretly  laid 
out  for  myself,  the  blossoms  are  torn  up  by  the  roots, 
the  bitter  trial  of  deprivation  has  come  to  me  also;  and 
poor  Fritz,  who  already  was  practicing  resignation, 
will  now  be  quite  lost  in  his  hermitage." 

Even  Gabriel,  who  was  to  accompany  the  travelers 
to  the  capital  and  await  their  return  home  from  abroad 
at  the  house  of  Use's  father,  was  excited  during  this 
period,  and  often  disappeared  into  the  house  of  Mr. 
Hahn  when  it  became  dark.  The  last  day  he  brought 
home  from  the  market  a  beautiful  bird  of  uncommon 
appearance,  with  colored  feathers,  pasted  on  a  sheet, 
with  the  inscription:  "Peacock  from  Madagascar." 
Gabriel  wrote,  in  addition,  in  clear,  stiff  characters: 
"  Faithful  unto  death."  This  he  took  in  the  evening 
to  the  enemy's  house.  A  whispering  might  be  heard 
there,  and  a  pocket-handkerchief  be  seen,  which  wiped 
the  tears  from  sorrowful  eyes. 

"No  allusion  is  meant  to  the  name  of  this  family," 
said  Gabriel,  holding  the  bird  once  more  in  the  moon- 
light, the  beams  of  which  fell  through  the  staircase 
window  upon  two  sorrowful  faces;  "  but  it  occurred  to 
me  as  a  remembrance.  When  you  look  at  it  think  of 
me,  and  the  words  I  have  written  on  it.  We  must 
part,  but  it  is  hard  to  do  so."  The  honest  fellow 
pulled  out  his  pocket-handkerchief. 

Dorchen  took  it  from  him;  she  had  forgotten  her 
own,  and  wiped  her  eyes  with  it. 

"  It  is  not  for  long,"  said  Gabriel,  consolingly,  in 
spite  of  his  own  sorrow.  "  Paste  the  bird  on  the 
cover  of  your  trunk,  and  when  you  open  it  and  take 
out  a  good  dress,  think  of  me." 


154  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

"Always,"  cried  Dorchen,  weeping.  "I  do  not 
need  that." 

"  When  I  return,  Dorchen,  we  will  talk  further  of 
what  is  to  become  of  us,  and  I  hope  all  will  go  well. 
The  handkerchief  which  has  received  your  tears  shall 
be  a  remembrance  for  me." 

"  Leave  it  to  me,"  said  Dorchen,  sobbing.  "  I  must 
tell  you  I  have  bought  wool,  and  will  embroider  you  a 
wallet.  This  you  shall  carry  about  you,  and  when  I 
write,  put  my  letters  in  it." 

Gabriel  looked  happy,  in  spite  of  his  sorrow;  and 
the  moon  glanced  jeeringly  down  on  the  kisses  and 
vows  which  were  exchanged. 

CHAPTER    XXVII. 
THE    SOVEREIGN. 

The  Hereditary  Prince  was  walking  with  the 
Chamberlain  in  the  gardens  which  surrounded  the 
royal  castle  on  three  sides.  He  looked  indifferently  on 
the  splendid  coloring  of  the  early  flowers  and  the  fresh 
green  of  the  trees;  to-day  he  was  more  silent  than 
usual;  whilst  the  birds  piped  to  him  from  the  branches, 
and  the  spring  breeze  wafted  fragrance  from  the  tops 
of  the  trees,  he  played  with  his  eye-glass.  "What 
bird  is  that  singing?"  he  asked,  at  last,  awakening 
from  his  apathy. 

The  Chamberlain  replied,  "It  is  a  thrush." 

The  Prince  examined  the  bird  with  his  glasses, 
and  then  asked,  carelessly,  "What  are  those  people 
ahead  of  us  carrying?" 

"Chairs  for  the  pavilion,"  answered  the  Chamber- 
lain; "it  is  being  arranged  for  Professor  Werner. 


THE    SOVEREIGN.  155 

The  house  is  seldom  open  now;  formerly  his  High- 
ness, the  Sovereign,  used  to  live  there  occasionally." 

"  I  do  not  remember  ever  having  been  in  it  for  a 
very  long  time." 

"  Would  your  Highness  like  to  see  the  rooms?" 

"  We  can  pass  that  way." 

The  Chamberlain  turned  towards  the  pavilion;  the 
Marshal  was  standing  at  the  door;  he  had  come  to  see 
that  everything  was  in  order.  The  Hereditary  Prince 
greeted  him,  cast  a  cursory  glance  at  the  house,  and 
was  inclined  to  pass  on.  It  was  a  small  grey-stone 
structure,  in  old  fashioned  style;  there  were  shell- 
shaped  arabesques  round  the  doors  and  windows,  and 
little  dropsical  angels  supported  heavy  garlands  of 
stone  flowers  with  lines  which  appeared  to  have  been 
cutout  of  elephant's  hide;  the  angels  themselves  looked 
as  if  they  had  just  crept  out  of  a  dirty  swamp  and  been 
dried  in  the  sun.  The  dark  building  stood  amid  the 
fresh  verdure  like  a  large  chest,  in  which  all  the  with- 
ered flowers  that  the  garden  had  ever  borne,  and  all 
the  moss  which  the  gardener  had  ever  scraped  from 
the  trees,  seemed  to  have  been  kept  for  later  genera- 
tions. 

"  It  is  an  uninviting  looking  place,"  said  the 
Prince. 

"It  is  the  gloomy  appearance  that  has  always 
pleased  his  Sovereign  Highness  so  much,"  replied  the 
Marshal.  "Will  not  your  Highness  examine  the  in- 
terior?" 

The  Prince  passed  slowly  up  the  steps  and  through 
the  apartments.  The  musty  smell  of  the  long-closed 
rooms  had  not  been  removed  by  the  pastiles  that  had 
been  burnt  in  them;  logs  were  blazing  in  all  the  fire- 
places, but  the  warmth  which  they  spread  still  strug- 


156  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

gled  with  the  damp  air.  The  arrangement  of  the  rooms 
was  throughout  orderly  and  complete.  There  were 
heavy  portieres,  curtains  with  large  tassels,  and  fan- 
tastic furniture  with  much  gilding,  and  white  covers 
for  the  preservation  of  the  silk,  mirrors  with  broad 
fantastic  frames,  round  the  chimney-piece  garlands 
carved  in  grey  marble,  and  upon  it  wreathed  vases 
and  little  figures  of  painted  porcelain.  In  the  boudoir, 
on  a  marble  console,  there  was  a  large  clock  under  a 
glass  bell;  a  nude  gilded  nymph  poured  water  over  the 
dial  from  her  urn  which  was  turned  to  gilded  ice. 
Everything  was  richly  adorned;  but  the  whole  arrange- 
ment, furniture,  porcelain,  and  walls,  looked  as  if  no 
eye  had  ever  rested  on  them  with  pleasure,  nor  careful 
housewife  rejoiced  in  their  possession.  There  were 
remarkable  things  from  every  part  of  the  world;  first 
they  had  been  placed  in  the  large  assembly-rooms  which 
were  opened  at  Court  fetes;  then  they  had  ceased  to 
be  in  fashion,  and  were  moved  into  side-rooms.  It 
was  now  their  destiny  to  be  handed  down  from  one 
generation  to  another,  and  counted  once  a  year  to  see 
if  they  were  still  there.  Thus  they  passed  a  never- 
ending  existence — preserved,  but  not  used;  kept,  but 
disregarded. 

"It  is  damp  and  cold  here,"  said  the  Prince,  look- 
ing round  upon  the  walls,  and  again  hastening  into  the 
open  air. 

"How  do  the  arrangements  please  your  High- 
ness?" asked  the  Marshal. 

"  They  will  do  very  well,"  answered  the  Prince,  "  ex- 
cept the  pictures." 

"Some  of  them  certainly  are  rather  improper,"  ac- 
knowledged the  Marshal. 


THE    SOVEREIGN.  157 

"  My  father  would  be  pleased  if  you  could  remove 
these.  When  is  Professor  Werner  expected?" 

"This  evening,"  replied  the  Chamberlain.  "Per- 
haps your  Highness  would  wish  to  receive  the  guest 
after  his  arrival,  or  to  pay  him  a  visit  yourself." 

"You  may  ask  my  father,"  replied  the  Prince. 

When  the  Prince  went  with  his  companion  up  the 
staircase  to  his  own  rooms  in  the  castle,  the  Cham- 
berlain began: 

"The  Professor's  wife  was  very  much  pleased  once 
with  the  flowers  which  your  Highness  sent  her.  May  I 
commission  the  Court  gardener  to  put  some  in  her  room?" 

"Do  what  you  think  fitting,"  replied  the  Prince, 
coldly. 

He  entered  his  apartment,  looked  behind  him  to 
see  if  he  were  alone,  and  went  with  rapid  steps  to  the 
window;  from  thence  he  looked  over  the  level  lawn 
and  the  blooming  rows  of  trees  to  the  pavilion.  He 
gazed  long  through  the  window,  then  took  a  book 
from  the  table  and  seated  himself  in  the  corner  of  the 
sofa  to  read;  but  he  laid  the  book  on  the  table  again, 
paced  hastily  up  and  down,  and  looked  at  his  watch. 

The  Court  dinner  was  over.  The  ladies  cast  a  half 
glance  behind  them  to  see  if  the  back-ground  was 
clear  for  their  retiring  curtsies.  The  gentlemen  took 
their  hats  under  their  arms.  The  Marshal  approached 
the  door,  and  held  his  gold-headed  stick  with  graceful 
deportment — a  sure  sign  that  the  royal  party  was  about 
to  break  up.  The  Princess,  who  was  still  in  mourning, 
stopped  her  brother. 

"When  do  they  come?  I  am  so  curious,"  she  said, 
in  a  low  tone. 

"They  are  perhaps  already  there,"  answered  he, 
looking  down. 


158  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

"I  am  going  to  the  theatre  to-day  for  the  first  time 
again,"  continued  the  Princess.  "Come  into  my  box 
if  you  can." 

The  Prince  nodded.  Information  came  to  the  Mar- 
shal, which  he  conveyed  to  the  Prince's  father.  "  Your 
teacher,  Professor  Werner,  is  come,"  said  he,  aloud, 
to  his  son.  "  You  will  undoubtedly  wish  to  pay  your 
compliments  to  him."  He  then  bowed  to  the  Court, 
and  the  young  Princess  followed  him  out  of  the 
room. 

The  Chamberlain  hastened  to  the  pavilion.  The 
Marshal  followed  more  quietly.  A  royal  equipage  had 
brought  the  travelers  from  the  nearest  station.  They 
passed  rapidly  by  the  trees  in  the  park,  the  pleasure- 
grounds,  and  the  lighted  windows  of  the  royal  castle. 
The  pavilion  was  no  longer  a  shapeless  building,  as  it 
appeared  in  the  day,  under  the  glaring  sun,  to  the  in- 
different eyes  of  the  courtiers.  The  moon  lighted  up 
the  front,  and  shone  with  a  glimmering  halo  on  the  walls; 
it  threw  a  silver  glitter  on  the  cheeks  of  the  angels, 
and  on  the  solid  broad  leaves  of  their  garlands,  and 
brought  out  strongly  on  the  bright  surface  of  the  wall 
the  shadows  of  the  projecting  cornices.  Wax-lights 
shone  through  the  open  door.  Lackeys,  in  rich  liver- 
ies, held  heavy  candelabra.  The  steward  of  the  house, 
a  friendly  looking  personage,  in  dress  coat  and  knee- 
breeches,  stood  in  the  hall  and  greeted  the  comers 
with  polite  words.  Following  the  lackeys,  Use  ascended 
the  carpeted  steps,  on  her  husband's  arm,  and  when 
the  servant  threw  back  the  portiere^  and  the  row  of 
rooms  appeared  shining  with  wax-lights,  she  could 
hardly  suppress  an  exclamation  of  astonishment.  The 
steward  led  them  through  the  rooms,  explained  the 
disposal  of  them,  and  Use  perceived,  with  rapid  glance, 


THE    SOVEREIGN.  159 

how  stately  and  comfortable  they  all  were.  She 
looked  with  admiration  at  the  abundance  of  flowers 
which  were  placed  in  the  vases  and  bowls.  She  won- 
dered whether  her  little  Prince  had  shown  this  tender 
attention,  but  was  undeceived  when  the  official  an- 
nounced that  the  Chamberlain  had  sent  them.  A  pretty 
maid  was  introduced,  who  was  to  wait  upon  her  ex- 
clusively. Gabriel  stood  in  the  ante-room  considering 
where  he  and  his  traps  would  be  taken,  in  order  that 
the  Professor's  boots  might,  in  the  morning,  be  no 
dishonor  to  the  splendor  of  the  house.  At  last  one  of 
the  lackeys  showed  him  his  room,  and,  like  a  good 
comrade,  pointed  out  to  him  the  lamps  of  a  tavern, 
which  for  his  leisure  hours  would  be  particularly 
agreeable. 

Use  went  through  the  rooms  as  if  stupefied  by 
their  splendor,  and  endeavored  to  open  the  window  to 
let  in  some  fresh  air,  for  the  strong  fragrance  of  the 
hyacinths  threatened  her  with  headache.  Then  came 
the  Chamberlain,  behind  him  the  Marshal,  who  was  also 
an  urbane  gentleman  of  very  refined  appearance;  and 
both  expressed  their  pleasure  at  seeing  the  Professor 
and  his  wife.  They  offered  their  services  on  all  occa- 
sions, and  pointed  out  from  the  windows  the  position 
of  the  pavilion.  Suddenly  the  lackey  threw  open  the 
folding-doors,  announcing  "His  Highness,  the  Hered- 
itary Prince." 

The  young  gentleman  walked  slowly  into  the  room. 
He  bowed  silently  to  Use,  and  gave  his  hand  to  the 
Professor.  "My  father  has  commissioned  me  to  ex- 
press to  you  his  pleasure  that  you  have  fulfilled  his 
wishes;"  and,  turning  to  Use,  he  continued:  "I  trust 
that  you  will  find  the  dwelling  comfortable  enough 
not  to  regret  having  left  your  residence  at  home." 


l6o  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

Use  looked  with  great  pleasure  at  her  Prince.  He 
had,  it  appeared  to  her,  grown  a  little.  His  demeanor 
was  still  rather  depressed;  but  he  had  color  in  his 
cheeks,  and  it  was  clear  that  things  were  not  amiss 
with  him.  The  little  moustache  was  stronger  and  be- 
came him  well. 

She  replied,  "  I  scarcely  venture  to  turn  round.  It 
is  like  a  fairy  castle.  One  expects  every  moment  that 
a  spirit  will  spring  from  the  wall  and  inquire  whether 
one  wishes  to  go  through  the  air,  or  that  four  swans 
will  stop  at  the  window  with  a  golden  carriage.  No 
chair  is  necessary  to  ascend  to  it,  for  the  windows 
come  down  to  the  ground.  The  Park  Street  sends  its 
greeting,  and  I  give  your  Highness  heartfelt  thanks 
for  the  present  which  the  Chamberlain  sent  me  for  the 
last  Christmas-tree." 

The  Professor  approached  the  Prince,  mentioned 
to  him  the  names  of  some  of  his  colleagues,  who  had 
sent  to  him  their  kindest  remembrances,  and  then 
begged  him  to  express  to  his  royal  father  his  thanks 
for  this  hospitable  reception. 

Everything  seemed  to  curl  in  ornamental  scrolls. 
The  lamps  shone  from  the  silver  chandeliers,  the  hya- 
cinths sent  out  sweet  fragrance  from  every  vase,  the 
closed  curtains  gave  the  room  a  comfortable  appear- 
ance, and  on  the  frescoed  ceiling  a  flying  Cupid  was 
represented  holding  a  bunch  of  red  poppies  over  the 
heads  of  the  guests. 

"To-day  we  will  leave  you  to  rest,  as  you  must  be 
tired,"  said  the  Prince,  concluding  the  visit;  and  the 
Chamberlain  promised  to  inform  the  Professor  at  an 
early  hour  the  next  morning  when  the  Sovereign  would 
receive  him.  Scarcely  had  the  gentleman  gone  when 


THE    SOVEREIGN.  l6l 

a  servant  announced  that  dinner  was  served  in  the 
next  room. 

"Why,  it  is  evening,"  said  Use,  shyly. 

"Never  mind,"  replied  the  Professor,  "you  have 
taken  the  first  step.  Show  good  courage."  He  gal- 
lantly offered  her  his  arm.  The  man  in  smart  livery 
conducted  them  into  the  next  room,  and  drew  back  the 
chairs,  of  the  richly-adorned  table.  There  was  no  end 
of  courses.  In  spite  of  Use's  protest  a  superabundant 
dinner  made  its  appearance,  and  she  said,  at  last,  "  I 
must  resign  myself  to  everything.  There  is  no  use  in 
struggling  against  these  spirits.  Whoever  lives  in  a 
Prince's  household  must  be  bold  enough  to  go  through 
all." 

When  the  dinner  at  last  was  carried  away,  and 
Use  had  been  freed  from  her  anxieties  about  Gabriel, 
she  busily  began  arranging  her  things.  While  she 
was  unpacking  she  said  to  her  husband,  "This  is  a 
very  charming  welcome,  Felix,  and  I  now  have  real 
confidence  that  all  will  go  well." 

"  Have  you  ever  doubted  it?"  asked  the  Professor. 

Use  answered,  "Up  to  this  hour  I  have  had  a  se- 
cret anxiety,  I  know  not  why,  but  it  has  now  vanished; 
for  the  people  here  all  seem  so  friendly  and  kind- 
hearted." 

As  the  Prince  passed  through  the  gardens  back  to 
the  castle  the  two  cavaliers  behind  him  conversed  to- 
gether. 

"A  charming  woman,"  said  the  Marshal  —  "a 
beauty  of  the  first  order.  There  is  good  blood  there." 

"She  is  in  every  respect  a  distinguished  lady,"  re- 
plied the  Chamberlain,  aloud. 

"You  have  already  told  me  that  once,"  replied  the 


162  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

Marshal.  "I  congratulate  you  on  this  acquaintance 
from  the  University." 

"  How  do  you  like  the  Professor?"  asked  the  Cham- 
berlain, turning  the  conversation. 

"He  appears  to  be  a  clever  man,"  replied  the 
Marshal,  with  indifference.  "It  is  long  since  the  pa- 
vilion has  had  such  a  beauty  in  it." 

The  Prince  turned  round,  and  he  saw  by  the  light 
of  the  large  chandelier  that  the  gentlemen  exchanged 
looks  with  one  another. 

The  Prince's  carriage  drove  up.  He  entered  it 
without  saying  a  word  to  his  companions,  and  drove 
to  the  opera.  There  he  entered  the  ante-room  of  the 
royal  box. 

"How  do  the  strangers  like  their  abode  at  .the  pa- 
vilion?" asked  the  Sovereign,  kindly. 

"They  are  content  with  everything,"  replied  his 
son;  "  but  the  rooms  are  damp,  and  would  not  be 
healthy  for  a  prolonged  stay." 

"They  were  never  considered  so,  as  far  as  I  rec- 
ollect," replied  the  father,  coldly,  "and  I  hope  you 
will  be  convinced  of  it."  Then,  turning  to  the  Cham- 
berlain, he  said,  "To-morrow,  after  breakfast,  I  wish 
to  speak  to  Mr.  Werner." 

The  Hereditary  Prince  went  into  the  box  to  his 
sister,  and  seated  himself  silently  at  her  side. 

"Where  are  the  places  for  the  strangers?"  asked 
the  Princess. 

"I  do  not  know,"  replied  her  brother. 

The  Princess  looked  behind  her  inquiringly. 

"The  strangers'  box  is  opposite,"  explained  the 
Chamberlain;  "  but  they  have  enough  to  do  to-day 
settling  themselves." 


THE    SOVEREIGN.  163 

"What  is  the  matter  with  you,  Benno?"  asked  the 
sister,  after  the  first  act.  "You  cough." 

"I  have  caught  a  little  cold.     It  will  pass." 

After  the  theatre  the  Prince  retired  to  his  bed- 
room, and  complained  to  Kriiger  of  a  headache  and 
sore  throat.  When  he  was  alone,  he  opened  the  win- 
dow and  lopked  across  the  pleasure-ground  to  the  pa- 
vilion, the  lights  of  which  glimmered  like  stars  in  the 
night.  He  listened.  Perhaps  he  might  hear  some 
sound  from  there.  He  found  it  warm,  for  he  took  off 
his  necktie,  and  long  stood  motionless  at  the  window, 
till  the  cool  night  air  came  into  his  room  and  the  last 
light  was  extinguished.  Then  he  closed  his  window 
gently  and  went  to  bed. 

This  was  not  prudent,  for  the  Prince,  whose  health 
was  easily  affected,  awoke  the  following  morning  with 
a  severe  cold.  The  doctor  was  hastily  called,  and  the 
Prince  was  obliged  to  keep  his  bed. 

When  the  indisposition  of  the  Hereditary  Prince 
was  announced  to  his  father,  it  put  him  in  a  bad  hu- 
mor. "Just  now!"  he  exclaimed.  "He  has  every  mis- 
fortune unhealthy  people  are  heir  to."  When,  after- 
wards, the  Professor  was  announced,  the  way  in  which 
he  received  the  announcement  was  so  cold  and  con- 
strained that  the  Chamberlain  felt  very  anxious  about 
the  reception  of  the  Professor.  The  long  habit,  how- 
ever, of  receiving  graciously,  and  the  dignified  bear- 
ing of  the  Professor,  had  a  softening  influence.  After 
a  few  introductory  words,  the  Sovereign  began  a  con- 
versation about  Italy;  and  it  appeared  that  the  Pro- 
fessor was  in  correspondence  with  a  distinguished  lit- 
erary Roman,  who  was  one  of  the  Sovereign's  most 
intimate  acquaintances  when  he  was  last  in  Italy. 
This  gradually  placed  the  Professor  in  quite  a  differ- 


164  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

ent  light  to  the  Sovereign.  He  had  sent  for  him  as  a 
mere  useful  tool,  but  he  now  found  he  was  a  man  who 
had  claims  to  personal  consideration,  because  he  was 
known  to  others  whose  position  was  respected  by  the 
Sovereign.  The  Sovereign  then  asked  how  the  mat- 
ter of  the  lost  manuscript  stood,  and  smiled  at  the 
eager  zeal  of  the  Professor,  when  he  told  him  of  the 
new  clue  which  he  had  found  in  the  records. 

"It  would  be  well  for  you  to  prepare  a  memorial 
of  the  whole  state  of  the  affair,  which  will  assist  my 
memory,  and  add  to  it  what  help  you  wish  from  me  or 
my  officials." 

The  Professor  was  very  grateful. 

"  I  will  not  deny  myself  the  pleasure  of  taking  you 
to  the  museum,"  continued  the  Sovereign.  "  I  shall 
thus  see  what  a  learned  man,  who  is  a  thorough  con- 
noisseur, thinks  of  the  quiet  amusement  of  an  amateur 
collector." 

The  doors  flew  open,  the  learned  man  entered  the 
spacious  rooms  with  the  Sovereign.  "We  will  first  go 
rapidly  through  the  rooms  that  you  may  obtain  a  gen- 
eral view  of  their  contents  and  arrangements,"  said 
the  Sovereign.  While  the  Professor  looked  at  the 
abundance  of  beautiful  and  instructive  remains  of  an- 
tiquity, many  of  which  were  quite  new  to  him,  the 
Sovereign  gave  some  account  of  them;  but  soon  left  it 
to  the  learned  man  to  search  out  for  himself  objects 
of  interest,  and  it  was  now  his  turn  to  give  explana- 
tions. Here  there  was  an  inscription,  which  no  one 
probably  had  copied;  there  a  specimen  of  pottery,  with 
very  interesting  figures  on  it;  then  a  statuette,  a  re- 
markable variation  of  a  celebrated  antique  piece  of 
sculpture;  here  the  unknown  coin  of  a  famous  Roman 


THE    SOVEREIGN.  165 

family,  with  their  coat  of  arms;  and  there  a  long  row 
of  amulets,  with  hieroglyphics. 

It  was  a  great  pleasure  to  the  Sovereign  to  find 
out  the  importance  of  apparently  insignificant  objects, 
and  every  moment  to  receive  new  information  con- 
cerning their  value  and  names,  but  the  Professor  had 
the  tact  to  avoid  long  explanations.  He  looked  with 
quite  a  youthful  interest  on  the  collection.  It  hap- 
pened just  at  a  time  when  he  was  not  occupied  with 
great  works,  he  brought  with  him  a  lively  suscepti- 
bility for  impressions,  and  at  every  step  he  felt  how 
charming  were  the  new  views  which  he  obtained;  for 
there  was  much  here  that  invited  a  closer  examina- 
tion. He  inspired  the  Sovereign  with  something  of 
the  enjoyment  he  felt  himself.  There  was  no  end  of 
his  questions,  and  the  answers  of  the  Professor.  .  The 
Sovereign  was  delighted  to  tell  how  he  had  obtained 
many  of  the  objects,  and  the  Professor,  by  relating 
similar  stories  of  discoveries,  led  him  on  to  give  fur- 
ther accounts.  Thus  some  hours  passed  without  the 
Sovereign  experiencing  any  weariness,  and  he  was 
much  astonished  when  he  was  told  that  it  was  dinner- 
time. "Is  that  possible?"  he  exclaimed.  "You  un- 
derstand the  most  difficult  of  all  arts,  that  of  making 
the  time  pass  quickly.  I  expect  you  at  dinner;  to- 
morrow you  shall  see  the  collection  again,  undisturbed 
by  my  remarks;  then  you  must  favor  me  with  a  writ- 
ten report  of  what  is  desirable  with  respect  to  the  ar- 
rangement, so  as  to  make  the  valuable  objects  ser- 
viceable to  science." 

At  dinner — there  was  no  one  present  but  some 
gentlemen  whom  the  Professor,  by  the  advice  of 
the  Chamberlain,  had  visited  in  the  morning — the 
conversation  was  continued.  The  Sovereign  related 


1 66  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

much  about  Italy,  and  contrived  in  a  cursory  way  to 
draw  attention  to  the  personal  relations  of  the  Pro- 
fessor with  his  own  acquaintances,  in  order  that  his 
Court  might  know  something  about  the  man  with 
whom  he  was  so  much  pleased.  The  conversation 
was  easy  and  pleasant,  and  before  the  Sovereign  left 
the  company,  he  turned  again  to  the  Professor,  and 
said,  "I  desire  much  that  you  should  feel  at  home 
with  us,  and  I  hope  to  pass  more  than  one  day  as 
agreeably  as  I  have  done  this." 

To  the  Professor  .also  it  had  been  a  refreshing  day, 
and  in  going  away,  he  said,  in  great  spirits,  to  the 
High  Steward:  "His  Sovereign  Highness  understands 
very  well  how  to  say  kind  things." 

The  High  Steward  bowed  his  white  head  civilly, 
and  replied,  "That  is  the  vocation  of  princes." 

"Certainly,"  continued  the  Professor;  "but  so  warm 
an  interest  in  the  details  of  a  remote  province  of  sci- 
entific inquiry  is  more  than  I  had  anticipated." 

The  High  Steward  made  a  courteous  movement, 
which  was  to  signify  that  he  could  not  contradict  the 
assertion;  he  enveloped  himself  in  an  old-fashioned 
little  mantle,  bowed  silently  to  the  gentlemen  who 
were  similarly  occupied,  and  entered  his  carriage. 

In  intelligence  and  education  the  Sovereign  was 
superior  to  most  of  his  fellow  princes.  He  had  pre- 
served much  of  the  elasticity  of  his  youth  in  advanced 
age;  his  bodily  condition  was  excellent,  and  he  took 
great  care  of  his  health;  he  was  still  capable,  in  case 
of  necessity,  of  exertions  which  would  have  been  se- 
vere to  a  younger  man.  In  his  youth  he  had  devoted 
himself  enthusiastically  to  the  ebullitions  of  the  then 
fashionable  poetry,  and  had  indulged  in  higher  and 
freer  aspirations  than  other  men.  He  had  at  that  time 


THE    SOVEREIGN.  167 

corresponded  with  learned  men  and  artists  of  repute, 
and  he  liked  to  tell  of  his  intimacy  with  some  man  of 
prominent  mind.  But  his  youth  and  manhood  had 
fallen  in  a  weak  and  decrepit  period  of  our  develop- 
ment. In  the  years  when  a  foreign  conqueror  had 
treated  the  German  princes  as  the  greater  part  of 
them  well  deserved,  he  also  as  a  youth  had  bowed  to 
the  foreigner,  and  abandoned  the  sinking  vessel  at  the 
right  time  to  save  his  title  to  his  country.  Since  then 
he  had  ruled  over  a  pitiful  race  of  men,  for  he  had  en- 
tered upon  his  government  at  a  time  of  great  national 
exhaustion;  he  had  found  little  that  he  was  compelled 
to  respect  or  fear,  seldom  any  men  firm  enough  to 
maintain  their  rights  against  him,  and  no  public  opin- 
ion that  was  strong  enough  to  oppose  his  encroach- 
ment by  a  unanimous  determination.  His  country  was 
governed  by  officials,  the  official  places  were  continu- 
ally increased,  and  concerning  every  lost  key  of  a  vil- 
lage church  there  was  accumulated  a  bundle  of  legal 
documents;  he  allowed  these  prolix  forms  of  proceed- 
ings which  benumbed  the  life  of  the  people  to  remain 
unaltered,  and  only  took  care  that  the  officials,  when- 
ever his  personal  interest  came  into  play,  should  be 
pliant  servants,  who  would  procure  him  money,  and 
withdraw  from  publicity  any  past  wrong  dealings  of 
their  Sovereign. 

When  he  came  into  contact  with  his  people,  he  was 
affable  and  good-humored,  made  it  easy  for  petitioners 
to  approach  him,  listened  kindly  and  sympathetically 
to  all  complaints,  and  threw  the  blame  on  the  officials. 
He  was  not  unpopular;  sometimes  the  discontented 
grumbled  at  the  high  taxes,  and  over  the  costly  ex- 
penditure of  their  master;  and,  here  and  there,  an  an- 
ecdote of  his  private  life  reached  the  public;  but  the 


l68  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

new  spirit  of  the  times,  which  was  beginning  to  stir 
also  in  his  country,  struggled  only  weakly  in  helpless 
assaults  against  his  system  of  government.  And  al- 
though as  a  ruler  he  showed  no  inclination  to  remedy 
existing  evils,  yet,  to  those  at  a  distance,  he  appeared 
personally  to  be  a  humane,  good-hearted  man.  He  had 
a  kindly  acknowledgment  and  a  gracious  word  for 
every  one;  he  knew  much  of  the  private  relations  of 
his  subjects,  and  occasionally  showed  his  personal 
sympathy  for  individuals;  he  loved  children,  for  he 
would  sometimes  stop  in  the  streets  to  notice  pretty 
boys  and  girls,  and  inquire  after  their  parents;  he  gave 
a  fete  to  the  school  children  of  his  capital  every  year, 
appeared  at  it  himself,  and  took  pleasure  in  their 
games. 

His  Court  was  in  many  respects  a  model  of  order 
and  pleasing  display.  By  all  who  surrounded  him  he 
was  considered  a  distinguished  man;  and  contrived — 
which  is  most  difficult  for  a  prince — that  those  who 
daily  associated  with  him  should  always  have  a  feeling 
of  his  superiority.  He  had  never  been  a  military  man, 
and  he  did  not  refrain  from  sarcastic  remarks  on  the  war- 
like propensities  of  other  princes.  His  Court  long  re- 
mained free  from  the  military  influence  that  prevailed 
in  neighboring  capitals.  Gradually,  indeed,  he  made 
some  concessions  to  the  fashion,  and  his  aides-de-camp 
became  important  members  of  the  royal  household; 
but  he  was  not  on  a  comfortable  footing  with  the  offi- 
cers of  his  household,  and,  in  spite  of  his  quiet  man- 
ner, was  always  feared  by  these  gentlemen.  There 
were  hours  when  it  appeared  that  his  reserved  charac- 
ter was  not  only  accompanied  by  severity,  but  by 
something  quite  anomalous,  in  addition:  at  such  mo- 
ments, cynical  jests  or  brusque  and  irritative  re- 


THE    SOVEREIGN.  169 

marks  fell  from  his  lips,  and  he  lost  all  consideration 
for  the  claims  of  those  about  him.  But  the  young  no- 
blemen and  aides-de-camp  bore  the  secret  thorn  of 
their  position  without  being  subjected  to  the  loud  crit- 
icism which  is  often  expressed  by  the  courtiers  of  rul- 
ing princes,  for  the  Sovereign  understood  how  to  treat 
them  with  respect  before  strangers.  He  held  strictly 
to  etiquette,  even  on  their  behalf,  and  cleverly  took 
care  of  their  interests  in  the  presentation  of  favors  — 
orders  and  decorations — which  foreign  princes  visiting 
his  Court  were  bound  to  bestow;  he  never  called  upon 
them  for  anything  contrary  to  the  dignity  of  their 
office,  and  knew  how  to  maintain  his  own  and  that  of 
his  Court  in  intercourse  with  strangers. 

His  wife  had  died  early,  and  the  inhabitants  of  the 
capital  always  preserved  a  grateful  recollection  of  that 
pale  and  delicate  lady.  It  was  said  that  the  marriage 
had  not  been  a  happy  one;  yet  the  .sorrow  of  the  Sov- 
ereign was  strong  and  lasting.  He  always  spoke  with 
great  tenderness  of  the  departed,  and  every  year,  on 
the  anniversary  of  her  death,  fastened  a  garland  in  her 
mausoleum. 

He  had  two  children.  The  eldest,  the  Princess, 
had  returned  to  Court  after  the  death  of  her  husband; 
and  the  Sovereign,  in  the  eyes  of  the  Court  and  the 
people,  treated  her  with  especial  regard.  He-  had 
opened  his  whole  heart  to  the  Court  chaplain  about 
her.  "  I  should  like  to  see  her  married  again;  she  has 
a  right  to  look  forward  to  a  brilliant  life, — her  heart  is 
warm,  her  nature  energetic;  and  from  my  experience, 
I  consider  a  long  state  of  widowhood  a  bad  thing  for 
the  Princess.  But  I  fear  she  will  resist.  I  have  per- 
haps, always  been  a  weak  father  to  this  child.  You 
know,  venerable  sir,  how  dear  she  has  been  to  me." 


I7O  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

Thereupon  the  pious  gentleman,  with  folded  hands, 
exclaimed:  "I  know  it,  and  I  know  how  warmly  the 
heart  of  her  Serene  Highness  is  attached  to  her  fa- 
ther." Thepeoplealso  remarked  that  the  Sovereign  was 
a  good  father.  On  every  birthday  a  great  Court  fete  was 
arranged  for  the  daughter;  and  when  the  Sovereign 
once  happened  to  be  travelling  at  this  time,  he  ap- 
peared suddenly,  contrary  to  all  expectation,  on  the 
evening  of  the  birthday,  in  his  travelling  dress,  at  the 
Princess's  opera-box,  kissed  her  on  the  forehead  be- 
fore all  the  people,  and  said  that  he  had  hastened  his 
return  in  order  to  wish  her  joy  upon  her  fete  day.  Be- 
sides this,  he  neglected  no  opportunity  of  showing  her 
the  little  attentions  which  in  every  father  gave  an  im- 
pression of  amiable  gallantry,  and  which  in  every  rul- 
ing Sovereign  are  doubly  appreciated.  Before  every 
ball  he  sent  his  daughter  a  nosegay,  and  every  time 
had  it  brought  by  the  head  gardener  into  the  castle  to 
.inspect  it  himself.  He  was  glad  when  distinguished 
travellers  caused  their  arrival  to  be  announced  to  the 
Princess,  and  always  observed  accurately  whether  she 
was  well  entertained  during  their  reception.  But,  in 
spite  of  the  great  trouble  the  father  took  to  give  a 
good  appearance  to  his  relations  with  the  Princess, 
it  was  thought  that  he  had  a  secret  dislike  for  her. 
It  may  be  possible  for  a  prince  to  be  incomprehensi- 
ble to  those  who  are  in  daily  intercourse  with  him  in 
certain  important  concerns,  but  it  is  almost  impossible 
to  deceive  them  constantly. 

The  relations  of  the  father  to  his  son  were  very 
different.  The  latter,  a  sickly,  shy  boy,  had  been  de- 
prived of  self-confidence  by  the  way  in  which  his  fa- 
ther had  watched  over  his  education.  The  boy  had 
not  the  capacity  to  assert  himself;  it  was  still  a  diffi- 


THE    SOVEREIGN.  171 

cult  task  for  him  to  overcome  his  shyness  in  his  inter- 
course with  strangers.  When  the  list  of  persons  in- 
vited was  handed  to  him,  and  he  considered  what  he 
was  to  say  to  individuals,  apt  questions  seldom  oc- 
curred to  him,  and  what  he  did  bring  out  was  so  awk- 
wardly done  that  it  was  very  evident  that  he  had  been 
coached.  Even  to  the  persons  of  the  Court  the  young 
Prince  was  silent  and  indifferent;  the  ladies  and  gen- 
tlemen were  therefore  inclined  to  assume  that  he  was 
a  little  weak-minded.  His  father  treated  him  with 
contempt,  and  his  tone  towards  his  son  sometimes 
sounded  short  and  harsh,  as  if  it  were  not  worth  his 
while  to  conceal  his  disdain  for  him. 

In  this  respect,  however,  injustice  was  done  to  the 
father.  A  reigning  sovereign  is  easily  led  to  consider 
his  son  as  a  young  rival.  The  son  will  be  his  succes- 
sor, and  will,  in  the  next  generation,  expose  his  father 
before  all  the  world,  upset  all  his  arrangements,  and 
be  reconciled  to  all  who  have  been  discontented  and 
his  opponents.  When  he  has  become  sovereign,  it  is 
impossible  that  he  should  not  discover  something  un- 
der the  former  Government  that  has  been  wrong,  and 
everything  will  be  brought  before  him  in  which  his  fa- 
ther has  failed  and  done  evil.  This  would  have  been 
reason  enough  for  the  Sovereign  to  treat  his  son  with 
coldness  and  reserve.  Now  he  was  nobody,  a  power- 
less slave  who  was  indebted  to  his  father  for  every 
penny  he  had;  but  some  day  he  would  be  everything. 
But  his  son  was  in  his  eyes  insignificant;  he  moved  in 
the  prescribed  track  as  if  possessed  of  no  will  of  his 
own;  he  had  never  defied  him,  was  content  with  every- 
thing, and  had  yielded  silently  and  respectfully  to 
every  command;  it  was  not  to  be  supposed  that  he 
could  really  govern  himself,  still  less  would  he  put  his 


172  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

father  in  the  shade.  Thus  by  degrees  was  added  to 
the  father's  quiet  feeling  of  contempt,  one  of  almost 
compassionate  kindness.  The  timid  submissiveness 
of  the  Prince  was  very  satisfactory  to  his  father;  it  was 
very  agreeable  to  him  to  provide,  as  he  was  well  able, 
a  support  for  the  weak  reed  which  was  to  carry  on  the 
future  of  his  family.  To  him  he  showed  himself  as  he 
was:  what  he  did  for  him  was  done  with  the  feeling 
that  he  was  benefiting  another,  not  himself. 

But  just  now,  when  he  had  been  taking  pains  to 
procure  a  pleasure  for  the  Hereditary  Prince,  the  latter 
fell  ill!  

Use  went  with  Gabriel  through  the  rooms,  trying 
to  arrange  them  to  please  herself;  she  moved  the  ta- 
bles about,  examined  the  curtains,  and  looked  doubt- 
fully at  the  porcelain  vases. 

"I  am  surprised,"  said  Gabriel,  "that  amongst  this 
beautiful  furniture  one  thing  should  be  wanting,  a 
cuckoo-clock.  That  would  be  very  suitable:  it  gives 
life,  when  it  opens  its  door,  and  makes  profound  obei- 
sances as  they  do  at  Court.  For  they  are  very  polite 
here,  however  deceitful  they  may  be  at  heart.  I  have 
no  confidence  in  the  lackey;  he  asks  me  too  many 
questions.  How  would  it  be  taken  if  we  got  rid  of 
him?  I  could  manage  to  do  the  housekeeping  alone, 
with  the  maid.  No  cooking  can  be  done  here,  for 
there  is  no  kitchen;  every  drop  of  warm  water  must  be 
brought  from  the  cellar  over  there  where  the  white 
jackets  work  like  so  many  ghosts." 

"There  is  no  use  worrying  about  it,"  said  Use,  de- 
cisively; "we  must  accustom  ourselves  to  the  regula- 
tions, pride  must  put  up  with  much;  we  have  no  se- 
crets, and  I  know  you  will  be  cautious." 


THE    SOVEREIGN.  173 

"The  gardener  has  placed  a  table  and  chairs,  with 
flowers  about  it,  in  front  of  the  house,"  said  Gabriel. 
"Shall  I  take  your  work  down;  the  sun  appears  warm?" 

Use  went  in  front  of  the  house;  near  the  door  was 
a  space  bordered  with  plants  in  pots,  a  cosy  spot  in 
the  warm  midday  sun:  one  looked  from  under  the 
green  arbor  over  the  paths  and  smooth  turf,  up  to  the 
walls  of  the  castle.  Use  sat  down  in  a  rustic  chair, 
holding  her  embroidery  in  her  hands,  but  looking  up 
at  the  large  stone  palace,  that  rose  with  its  towers  and 
newly  built  extensions,  some  hundred  steps  from  her. 
There  dwelt  the  great  ones  of  the  earth,  near  to  whom 
she  had  been  so  suddenly  brought.  She  counted  the 
rows  of  windows,  and  thought  that  there  must  be  more 
than  a  hundred  rooms  and  halls,  all  grandly  and  splen- 
didly furnished,  and  she  wondered  how  many  people 
it  must  require  to  fill  such  a  building  that  it  might 
not  look  empty  and  desolate.  Approaching  steps  dis- 
turbed her  thoughts.  A  middle-aged  gentleman  was 
advancing  up  the  gravel  walk:  he  drew  near:  it  was 
the  Sovereign.  Use  rose,  alarmed.  He  came  up  to  her 
slowly.  "Madame  Werner?"  he  asked,  touching  his 
hat.  Use  curtsied  low;  her  heart  beat;  she  was  un- 
prepared for  this  meeting  with  him  whom  she  had 
been  accustomed  from  her  earliest  youth  to  consider 
the  greatest  man  on  earth.  Though  she  had  once  seen 
him,  it  was  but  for  a  moment.  Her  thoughts,  ever 
since  the  years  when  she  had  adorned  him  with  the 
crown  and  sceptre  of  a  mock  king  at  cards,  had  at- 
tached themselves  to  him  with  shy  respect.  Often 
when  she  had  looked  at  the  Hereditary  Prince,  she 
had  endeavored  to  form  some  conception  of  what  his 
father  must  be  like;  what  she  had  heard  of  him  had 
not  helped  to  diminish  her  fears. 


174  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

The  Sovereign  looked  with  delight  on  the  beautiful 
woman  before  him,  who  received  his  flattering  greet- 
ing with  silent  embarrassment.  "You  are  no  stranger 
to  me,"  he  began,  "and  you  have  reason  to  be  satis- 
fied with  the  years  that  have  passed  since  my  walk 
over  your  father's  farm.  You  may  now  try  our  mode 
of  life.  We  also  take  pleasure  in  the  spring,  and  I  see 
the  sun  casts  friendly  rays  on  the  spot  which  you  have 
selected." 

He  seated  himself  on  one  of  the  rustic  chairs,  point- 
ing at  the  same  time  to  another.  "Do  not  let  me  inter- 
rupt your  work.  I  am  taking  a  walk,  and  beg  to  be 
allowed  to  rest  myself  for  a  moment  here." 

"The  work  is  in  idle  hands,"  answered  Use,  "  I  was 
looking  at  the  castle,  and  thinking  how  large  the 
household  must  be  that  requires  so  much  room." 

"It  is  an  old  building,"  remarked  the  Sovereign. 
'•  Many  centuries  have  contributed  to  increase  it,  and 
yet,  in  the  opinion  of  the  officers  of  my  household,  it 
is  not  large  enough.  One  easily  increases  one's  re- 
quirements. But  then,  again,  one  rejoices  in  with- 
drawing into  a  smaller  abode.  I  myself  once  lived  in 
this  pavilion,  alone,  with  only  a  few  necessary  servants. 
Such  solitude  does  one  good." 

"That  I  can  imagine,"  replied  Use,  sympathizingly. 
"  But  to  such  as  we  are  it  is  something  new  to  see  so 
grand  a  style  of  life.  The  castle  and  its  grounds  with 
the  blooming  trees,  are  like  large  precious  stones  set  in 
gold.  It  gives  me  heartfelt  pleasure  to  have  so  near 
a  view  of  your  Highness's  home;  it  helps  to  give  one 
an  idea  of  the  mode  of  life  of  our  gracious  Sovereign." 

"  Then  you  still  consider  yourself  a  child  of  our 
country,"  said  the  Sovereign,  smiling. 

"That  is  natural,"  answered  Use.  "From  my  child- 


THE    SOVEREIGN.  175 

hood  I  have  heard  of  your  Highness  as  our  ruler; 
whenever  I  looked  in  the  newspaper  Lsawyour  High- 
ness's  name;  everywhere  I  have  seen  your  Highness's 
pictures;  and,  since  I  have  been  old  enough  to  go  to 
church,  I  have  prayed  for  your  Highness's  happiness 
and  health.  This  is  a  bond  of  union;  it  is,  indeed,  only 
on  one  side,  for  your  Highness  cannot  care  about  us 
all,  but  we  think  and  care  much  about  our  ruler." 

"And  speak  of  him  sometimes  with  dissatisfaction," 
replied  the  Sovereign,  good-humoredly. 

"Just  as  it  happens,  gracious  Prince,"  replied  Use, 
honestly.  "  One  does  not  always  speak  well  of  one's 
neighbors;  but,  in  serious  matters  and  in  trouble,  a 
good  heart  shows  itself.  So  it  is  with  the  Sovereign, 
each  one  forms  his  own  idea  of  him  according  to  cir- 
cumstances, trusts  in  him,  or  is  angry  with  him,  and 
ends  by  thinking  that  he  and  his  prince  belong  to  one 
another." 

"  It  were  to  be  wished  that  so  good  a  feeling  might 
be  shown  by  every  subject,"  rejoined  the  Sovereign; 
"but  fidelity  is  wavering,  and  personal  attachment 
disappears." 

"Many  know  too  little  of  their  Sovereign,"  said 
Use,  apologizing.  "  How  can  they  care  for  him  when 
they  see  so  little  of  him?  For  seeing  does  much:  we 
at  Rossau  have  seldom  the  honor  of  setting  eyes  on 
our  prince." 

"The  feeling  of  that  country  has  been  described  to 
me  as  unsatisfactory." 

"  We  are  situated  in  a  distant  corner,  but  we  have 
a  heart.  Your  Highness  will  scarcely  remember  the 
maidens  at  Rossau,  who  received  you  seventeen  years 
ago  at  the  triumphal  arch.  There  were  twenty;  the 
little  town  could  not  produce  any  more.  They  all 


176  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

wore  the  national  colors  on  their  bodices  and  petti- 
coats; they,  of  course,  had  to  buy  the  dresses  them- 
selves. One  of  the  maidens  was  miserably  poor,  but 
she  was  pretty,  and  did  not  like  to  be  left  behind,  so 
she  worked  the  whole  week  during  the  greater  part  of 
the  night,  in  order  to  procure  money  for  her  dress. 
In  her  last  illness,  for  she  died  young,  she  asked  to  be 
buried  in  this  dress,  as  that  day  had  been  one  of  great- 
est honor  and  pleasure  to  her.  But  your  Highness 
was  hardly  able  to  stop  there;  you  drove  quickly 
through  the  triumphal  arch,  and,  perhaps,  did  not 
even  see  the  maidens." 

Whilst  Use  was  speaking,  she  was  secretly  strew- 
ing bread  crumbs  beside  her.  The  Prince  observed 
her  hand,  and  she  excused  herself. 

"  The  finches  call  to  their  gracious  Sovereign, 
'Give,  give! '  The  little  ones  are  very  tame  here." 

"  They  are  probably  fed  by  the  servants,"  said  the 
Prince. 

"  To  love  animals  is  the  custom  of  our  country  !" 
exclaimed  Use;  "and  tame  birds  suit  well  with  a  royal 
castle,  for  all  here  should  feel  joyful  confidence." 

The  Sovereign's  glove  fell  to  the  ground,  and  as 
the  loyal  Use  quickly  bent  down  to  pick  it  up,  the 
Sovereign's  eye  rested  for  a  moment  upon  her  head 
and  form.  He  rose  slowly.  "  I  hope,  Madame,  that 
you  will  be  of  the  number  of  those  joyful  ones  who 
place  confidence  in  the  possessor  of  this  spot.  As 
master  of  the  house,  I  have  made  inquiry  after  the 
health  of  my  new  lodger.  I  wish  that  you  may  feel 
here  some  portion  of  the  pleasure  that  you  know  how 
to  impart  to  others." 

He  civilly  acknowledged  Use's  respectful  curtsy, 
and  returned  to  the  castle. 


IN    THE    PAVILION.  177 

There  the  Chamberlain  waited  to  report  to  him 
concerning  the  health  of  the  Hereditary  Prince. 

"His  Highness  is  unfortunately  still  obliged  to 
keep  to  his  bed." 

"  He  must  take  care  of  himself,"  replied  the 
Sovereign,  graciously,  "  and  not  leave  his  room  too 
soon." 

CHAPTER  XXVIII. 
IN      THE      PAVILION. 

The  splendid  iris  colors  wherewith  Use  had  at 
first  adorned  her  new  abode  gradually  faded.  As,  in- 
stead of  the  steward  and  lackeys  by  whom  she  was  re- 
ceived, there  was  now  only  a  single  servant,  in  a  dark 
coat,  to  assist  Gabriel,  so  everything  else  that  sur- 
rounded Use  appeared  now  in  the  modest  colors  of 
common  earthly  life.  This  was  natural,  and  Use  her- 
self said  so  to  her  husband.  But  there  was  one 
thing  she  did  not  like:  she  was  separated  from  her 
husband  more  than  in  the  city.  The  morning  and  a 
portion  of  the  afternoon  he  worked  in  the  museum, 
and  devoted  many  hours  also  to  his  own  object  among 
the  archives  and  records  of  the  Marshal's  office,  whose 
private  offices  were  willingly  opened  to  him.  When 
he  returned  home  he  had  sometimes  to  dress  in  haste 
for  the  Court  dinner,  and  Use  dined  alone.  However 
attentive  the  servant  might  be  in  bringing  up  the 
numerous  dishes,  the  lonely  meal  was  uninviting  and 
sad  to  her.  But  a  great  many  evenings  were  spent  in 
a  new  entertainment:  a  Court  carriage  used  to  stop  at 
the  pavilion,  and  convey  her  and  her  husband  to  the 
theatre.  When  for  the  first  time  she  entered  the 
private  boxes  near  the  stage,  she  rejoiced  in  the  com- 
fortable position,  which  allowed  her  to  give  her  atten- 


1^8  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

tion  to  the  performance  undisturbed  by  the  public. 
When  she  leant  back  in  her  box  she  saw  nothing  of 
the  spectators,  except  the  Sovereign's  seat  opposite. 
The  theatre  was  very  grand,  much  richer  in  decora- 
tions and  costumes  than  she  had  seen  in  the  city,  and 
there  were  some  good  singers  at  the  opera.  Absorbed 
in  the  performance,  she  did  not  remark  with  what  cu- 
riosity she  was  regarded  by  the  public,  and  that  the 
Sovereign's  opera  glass  was  often  directed  towards 
her.  She  soon  found  that  the  theatre  was  the  best 
amusement  of  the  capital,  and  her  husband  took  care 
that  she  should  not  miss  this  recreation,  although  he, 
perhaps,  would  have  preferred  remaining  with  his 
books,  or  examining  a  bundle  of  records  from  the  ar 
chives.  Between  the  acts,  Use  looked  with  curiosity 
down  upon  the  people,  who  were  all  strangers  to  her, 
and  said  to -Felix:  "This  is  the  only  occasion  upon 
which  I  have  ladies  near  me." 

During  the  day  she  felt  her  solitude.  Her  father 
had  a  mercantile  friend  in  the  city  to  whom  she  made 
a  point  of  going  the  first  day,  but  in  the  family  of  the 
little  merchant  she  found  no  one  to  suit  her.  Accord- 
ing to  the  advice  of  the  Chamberlain,  she  went  round 
with  Felix  to  pay  visits  to  the  Court  ladies.  In  most 
of  the  houses  no  one  was  at  home,  and  she  had  to 
leave  cards.  Rarely  were  these  visits  returned;  and 
it  always  happened  that  on  her  return  home  from  the 
city,  or  from  a  walk  in  the  gardens  of  the  castle,  she 
found  the  cards  of  some  lady.  This  was  annoying  to 
her,  for  she  wished  to  try  how  she  could  get  on  with 
the  ladies.  Some  of  the  gentlemen  of  the  Court,  in- 
deed, used  to  present  themselves  to  her  in  the  morn- 
ing,— the  Chamberlain  and  the  Grand  Marshal, — but 
the  visits  even  of  the  Chamberlain  became  shorter; 


IN    THE    PAVILION.  179 

he  looked  depressed,  and  spoke  of  little  but  the  con- 
tinued indisposition  of  the  Hereditary  Prince. 

Use  was  very  anxious  to  know  the  Princess.  The 
second  day  after  her  arrival  the  Chamberlain  an- 
nounced that  her  Highness  would  see  the  Professor 
and  Madame  Werner  at  a  certain  hour.  Use  stood 
with  her  husband  amidst  the  silk  and  gilding  of  the 
royal  room;  the  door  flew  open,  and  a  young  lady  in 
half  mourning  swept  in.  Use  recognized  at  once  that 
she  was  the  sister  of  the  Hereditary  Prince:  a  delicate 
refined  face,  the  same  eyes,  only  more  lively  and  bril- 
liant, and  an  enchanting  smile  played  round  the  deli- 
cate mouth.  The  Princess  bowed  her  small  head 
gravely,  said  a  few  civil  words  to  her,  and  then  turned 
to  Felix,  with  whom  she  immediately  entered  into 
lively  conversation.  Use  observed  with  admiration 
the  ease  of  her  manner,  and  the  tact  with  which  she 
could  say  kind  things;  she  soon  discovered  what  an 
active  mind  lay  concealed  within  that  lovely  form, 
and  that  her  husband's  answers  were  instantly  fol- 
lowed by  intelligent  remarks  on  the  part  of  the  prude 
lady.  At  the  close  of  the  visit  the  Princess  turned 
again  to  Use,  and  said  how  much  her  brother  lamented 
that  his  illness  deprived  him  of  the  pleasure  of  seeing 
her.  The  words  and  tone  were  very  kind,  but  there 
was  a  pride  and  princely  dignity  in  the  manner  which 
hurt  Use.  When  the  Professor  on  their  return  spoke 
with  warmth  of  the  charming  lady,  and  exclaimed, 
"That  is  an  uncommonly  bright  mind!  Like  her  out- 
ward appearance,  her  inward  spirit  has  a  fairy  grace 
about  it!"  she  was  silent;  she  felt  that  her  husband 
was  right,  but  she  also  felt  that  the  Princess  had  ex- 
cluded her  from  the  footing  of  intimacy  which  she 
had  accorded  to  her  Felix. 


l8o  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

Being  in  this  state  of  mind,  she  was  surprised  and 
pleased  at  one  mark  of  attention  which  was  shown  her. 
Since  her  interview  with  the  Sovereign  the  head  gar- 
dener brought  her  every  morning,  at  the  same  hour, 
a  vase  of  the  most  beautiful  flowers,  with  the  compli- 
ments of  his  Highness.  This  was  not  all:  a  few  days 
after  the  Sovereign  came  again,  when  Use  was  sitting, 
as  before,  in  front  of  the  door.  He  asked  whether  it 
was  not  advisable,  on  account  of  the  slight  breeze  that 
had  sprung  up,  to  enter  the  house;  she  took  him  into 
the  room;  he  sat  down  there,  and  asked,  as  if  ac- 
cidentally, whether  she  was  well  entertained,  and  had 
found  any  acquaintances  in  the  city.  He  took  so 
much  interest  in  her  that  Use  said  to  her  husband, 
when  he  returned  home,  "  How  mistaken  are  the 
opinions  that  one  forms  about  strangers!  When  I 
came  here  I  thought  the  Sovereign  was  a  thoroughly" 
reserved  man,  but  I  find  him  very  friendly,  and  he 
seems  quite  a  good  family  man  too;  but  with  such  a 
large  household  it  may  frequently  be  necessary  to  be 
strict." 

The  Sovereign's  short  visit  was  repeated.  The 
next  time  he  found  the  Professor  with  his  wife.  On 
this  occasion  he  was  more  serious  than  before. 

"How  were  you  satisfied  with  the  Hereditary 
Prince?"  he  asked  the  Professor. 

"Those  who  instructed  him  praised  his  industry; 
among  the  students  he  gained  popularity,  and  there 
was  general  regret  at  parting  from  him." 

The  Sovereign  remarked  the  word  popularity. 

"How  did  the  Prince  contrive  to  gain  this?" 

"He  showed  an  upright  character  and  decided  will, 
and  one  felt  confidence  in  him." 

The  Sovereign  gave  a  searching  look  at  the  Pro- 


IN    THE    PAVILION.  l8l 

fessor,  and  perceived  from  his  calm  manner  that  this 
was  not  empty  civility. 

"The  attachment  of  the  students  showed  itself  on 
the  departure  of  the  young  Prince  by  a  festive  sere- 
nade," interposed  Use. 

"I  know,"  replied  the  Sovereign.  "I  assumed  that 
Weidegg  by  his  endeavors  contrived  to  have  this 
done." 

"It  was  of  their  own   free  will,  and   showed   their 
warm  feeling,"  added  the  Professor. 

The  Sovereign  remained  silent. 

"He  won  the  hearts  of  the  ladies  also,"  continued 
Use,  "and  we  lamented  his  Highness's  absence  from 
our  tea-parties." 

The  Sovereign  still  continued  silent;  at  last  he  be- 
gan, in  a  bitter  tone: 

"What  you  tell  me  surprises  me.  Considering  you 
as  the  Prince's  instructor,  I  may  speak  more  openly  to 
you  than  to  my  household.  The  Prince  has  a  weak 
character,  and  I  have  no  confidence  in  his  future." 

"  He  gave  us  the  impression  of  having,  under  all 
this  shy  reserve,  the  qualiti'es  for  the  formation  of  a  firm 
and  noble  character,"  replied  the  Professor,  respect- 
fully. 

Use  thought  that  this  was  the  moment  to  introduce 
something  advantageous  to  the  Prince. 

"May  I  venture  to  tell  your  Highness,  which  my 
husband  entirely  approves  of,  that  the  Prince  wishes 
far  more  knowledge  concerning  agricultural  industry? 
As  I  am  myself  from  the  country,  your  Highness  will 
forgive  me  if  I  should  say  that  this  is  the  best  school 
for  our  dear  young  Prince." 

"On  the  estate  of  your  father?"  asked  the  Sover- 
eign shortly. 


1 82  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

"Anywhere,"  replied  Use,  innocently. 

"  I  have  never  heard  him  express  any  such  wish," 
concluded  the  Sovereign,  rising.  "In  any  case  I  am 
grateful  to  you  for  the  interest  you  take  in  his  future." 

He  took  leave  with  an  air  of  reserve,  and  returned 
to  his  daily  business. 

The  day  was  a  difficult  one  for  all  who  had  to  do 
with  him.  He  rode  out  with  his  aide-de-camp  into  a 
rough,  woody  country,  where  his  soldiers  after  a  night- 
march  were  practising  field  service.  Generally  he  cared 
little  about  the  details  of  manoeuvres,  but  on  this  oc- 
casion he  harrassed  his  aides-de-camp  and  soldiers  by 
sudden  changes  of  disposition.  When  the  soldiers  at  last 
returned  home  exhausted,  he  went  to  inspect  a  distant 
stud  and  a  plantation,  and  wandered  about  four  hours 
on  rough  hill  roads.  No  one  could  do  anything  to  suit 
him — blame  and  bitter  remarks  alone  fell  from  his 
lips.  In  the  evening  there  was  a  Court  concert;  the 
aide-de-camp,  tired  to  death,  stood  in  the  hall,  count- 
ing the  minutes  till  his  retirement.  Then  the  Sover- 
eign on  withdrawing,  called  him  to  his  study;  there 
he  seated  himself  in  an  arm-chair  near  the  fire-place 
and  gazed  at  the  fire,  occasionally  put  on  a  log,  and 
held  the  silver  handle  of  the  fire-tongs  in  his  hand, 
striking  it  at  intervals  on  the  iron  bars  of  the  grate. 
Meanwhile  the  aide-de-camp  stood  some  steps  behind 
him,  one  hour,  two  hours,  till  he  was  ready  to  faint. 
It  was  not  till  the  middle  of  the  night  that  the  Sover- 
eign rose  and  said,  "You  must  be  tired;  I  will  not 
detain  you  longer."  He  spoke  this  mildly,  but  his 
eyes  glittered  with  an  unpleasant  gleam,  and  the 
aide-de-camp  acknowledged  later  to  his  intimate 
friends  that  he  should  not  forget  that  look  as  long  as 
he  lived. 


IN    THE    PAVILION.  183 

"The  Sovereign  has  visited  the  pavilion  for  the 
third  time!"  said  the  Chamberlain,  to  the  Hereditary 
Prince,  who  was  sitting  in  his  room  with  his  throat 
tied  up.  The  Prince  looked  down  on  the  book  which 
was  lying  before  him. 

"Do  the  guests  seem  to  like  their  residence  here?" 

"I  cannot  say  that  of  the  Professor's  wife:  I  fear 
she  is  placed  in  a  difficult  position  here.  The  marked 
distinction  which  his  Highness  shows  her,  and  certain 
old  recollections  which  attach  to  the  pavilion — 

The  Prince  rose,  and  looked  so  indignantly  at  the 
Chamberlain  that  he  became  mute. 

"The  Sovereign  was  very  ungracious  to-day,"  he 
continued,  in  a  depressed  tone.  "  When  I  reported 
to  him  concerning  your  Highness's  health,  I  met  with 
a  reception  which  was  not  encouraging." 

The  Hereditary  Prince  approached  the  window. 

"The  air  is  mild,  Weidegg;  I  shall  endeavor  to  go 
out  to-morrow." 

The  Chamberlain  was  very  uncertain  how  this 
decision  of  the  Hereditary  Prince  would  be  received: 
he  departed  in  silence. 

When  the  Prince  was  alone,  he  tore  the  shawl 
from  his  shoulders  and  threw  it  on  one  side. 

"Fool  that  I  was!  I  wished  to  preserve  her  from 
gossip,  and  have  exposed  her  to  worse.  I  myself  sit 
here  in  seclusion,  and  my  father  visits  her  in  my  stead. 
It  was  a  cowardly  device.  If  I  cannot  avert  what  is 
impending  for  this  poor  creature,  I  will  play  my  part 
in  the  game  that  is  beginning." 

When  the  Prince  on  the  following  morning  went 
to  his  father,  the  latter  began,  with  calm  coldness: 

"  I  hear  from  strangers  that  you  have  the  desire  to 
obtain  some  knowledge  of  agriculture.  The  wish  is 


184  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

sensible.  I  shall  consider  how  you  can  find  an  oppor- 
tunity to  obtain  this  knowledge  somewhere  in  the 
country.  It  will  also  be  advantageous  to  your  health, 
and  will  agree  with  your  inclination  for  a  quite  poetic 
life." 

I  shall  do  what  my  honored  father  bids  me,"  re- 
plied the  Hereditary  Prince,  and  left  the  room. 

The  Sovereign  looked  after  him,  and  murmured: 

"Not  a  word  to  be  got  out  of  him  but  cowardly 
submission;  always  the  same  submissive  compliance. 
Not  an  eyelash  moved  when  I  ordered  him  to  do  what 
was  unwelcome.  Is  it  possible  that  this  pliant  boy  is 
a  master  of  dissimulation,  and  is  deceiving  me  and  all 
of  us?" 

If  Use  in  spite  of  the  distinction  with  which  the 
Prince  treated  her,  had  a  foreboding  of  the  dark 
shadow  which  hung  over  the  pavilion,  far  different 
was  the  tone  of  mind  of  her  husband;  he  lived  in  the 
midst  of  the  interesting  investigations  to  which  the 
museum  gave  rise,  and  the  poetry  of  his  earnest  mind 
worked  busily,  and  cast  a  brillant  lustre  over  his  so- 
journ in  the  capital.  He  was  a  hunter  who  trod  with 
light  step  over  his  hunting  ground,  breathing  the  pure 
mountain  air,  whilst  around  him  the  rays  of  the  sun 
gilded  the  mossy  ground  and  heather.  The  time  had 
now  come  when  that  of  which  he  had  dreamt  for  years 
was  within  reach  of  his  hand.  It  is  true  the  new  track 
of  the  manuscript  remained  indistinct.  The  fate  of 
that  chest  which  had  been  mentioned  in  the  old  letter 
could  not  be  ascertained.  In  the  Prince's  library,  and 
in  a  collection  of  books  in  the  city,  there  were  found 
neither  manuscripts  nor  other  books  which  could  be 
ranked  among  the  possessions  of  the  monastery  of 
Rossau.  He  had  renewed  his  acquaintance  with  the 


IN    THE    PAVILION.  185 

head-forester,  but  the  latter  could  think  of  no  place 
where  old  hunting  implements  were  kept.  He  went 
through  old  catalogues  of  the  Marshal's  office,  and 
nowhere  could  the  chest  be  discovered.  But  it  was 
more  strange  still  that  the  name  of  a  royal  castle 
Solitude  was  quite  unknown  in  the  capital.  The  castle, 
like  one  in  an  old  legend,  had  vanished.  But,  strange 
as  this  circumstance  was,  yet  the  account  of  the  student 
had  won  for  this  old  letter  of  the  official  an  importance 
which  gave  the  searcher  hopes  of  a  good  result.  For 
only  a  few  years  ago  some  one,  who  knew  little  of  the 
value  of  such  a  narrative,  had  seen  the  Rossau  chest. 
It  was  no  longer  a  deceptive  image  from  a  distant 
past;  on  any  day  a  lucky  accident  might  lead  him  to 
it.  But  when  the  Professor  gazed  on  the  slate  roof  of 
the  royal  castle,  and  ascended  the  grand  steps,  he  had 
always  a  joyful  presentiment  that  he  was  now  near 
his  treasure.  With  the  help  of  the  Castellan  he  had 
already  examined  the  whole  ground-floor  of  the  castle; 
he  had  climbed  up  under  the  beams  of  the  old  roof 
like  a  marten,  and  had  opened  the  old  garrets,  the  keys 
of  which  had  not  turned  for  a  generation.  He  had 
found  nothing.  But  there  were  other  houses  belong- 
ing to  the  Sovereign  in  the  town  and  neighborhood, 
and  he  was  quite  decided  to  examine  one  after  the 
other  secretly. 

In  this  time  of  restless  agitation,  when  his  fancy 
was  always  opening  new  prospects,  intercourse  with 
agreeable  persons  was  very  refreshing.  He  himself, 
in  this  state  of  excitement,  proved  a  good  companion, 
and  observed  with  cheerful  interest  the  proceedings  of 
those  about  him.  The  Sovereign  showed  him  great 
distinction,  and  the  young  noblemen  were  very  at- 


1 86  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

tentive;  he  took  his  place  among  them  with  dignity 
and  without  pretension. 

The  Chamberlain  informed  the  Professor  how  much 
the  Princess  had  been  pleased  with  him,  and  Felix  re- 
joiced when  one  forenoon  she  and  her  lady-in-waiting 
visited  the  museum,  and  begged  for  his  guidance. 
When  the  Princess  was  going  away,  thanking  him,  she 
begged  he  would  mention  to  her  some  books  from 
which  she  could  herself  learn  a  little  about  that  portion 
of  the  life  of  antiquity,  the  ruins  connected  with  which 
he  had  shown  her;  she  told  him  also  of  an  ancient  vase 
which  she  possessed,  and  asked  him  to  come  and 
see  it. 

The  learned  man  was  now  standing  with  the 
Princess  before  the  vase.  He  explained  to  her  the 
subject  of  the  pictures,  and  told  her  something  about 
the  old  Greek  pottery.  The  Princess  led  him  into  an- 
other room,  and  showed  him  some  valuable  sketches. 
"I  wish  you  to  see  all  I  possess  of  objects  of  art." 
While  he  was  examining  these,  she  began,  suddenly: 
"You  have  now  learnt  to  know  us  a  little,  and  how  do 
you  like  us?" 

"  I  have  met  with  great  kindness,"  replied  the 
Professor,  "which  is  agreeable  to  one's  self-esteem;  it 
gives  me  pleasure  to  observe  a  life  so  different  from 
that  of  my  circle  and  people,  who  are  differently  bred." 

"In  what  do  you  find  us  differently  bred?"  asked 
the  Princess,  pressingly. 

"The  habit  of  acting  your  part  fittingly  at  every 
moment,  and  maintaining  your  position  among  others, 
give  persons  an  easy  confidence,  which  always  has  a 
pleasant  effect." 

"That  would  be  an  advantage  which  we  share  with 
every  tolerable  actor,"  replied  the  Princess. 


IN    THE    PAVILION.  187 

"At  all  events,  it  is  an  advantage  always  to  play 
the  same  role." 

"  You  think,  therefore,  it  is  no  longer  art  if  we  be- 
come adepts  in  it,  and  act  our  part  well,"  rejoined 
the  Princess,  smiling;  "but  in  that  also  there  is 
danger;  we  are  from  childhood  so  much  accustomed 
to  behave  suitably,  that  it  endangers  our  sincerity;  we 
observe  the  effects  of  our  words,  and  we  soon  think 
more  of  the  good  effect  than  of  the  purport  of  what  is 
said.  I  myself,  while  talking  with  you,  remark  with 
pleasure  how  much  I  please  you,  yet  I  am  nothing 
more  than  a  poor  princess.  But  if  our  aptness  in 
presentation  pleases  you,  in  like  manner  we  are  at- 
tracted by  a  character  that  is  calm  and  confident  with- 
out attending  to  outward  appearances;  and  perhaps  a 
deficiency  in  the  forms  of  society  and  the  plain  speak- 
ing of  a  powerful  mind  are  interesting  to  us,  if  they 
do  not  wound  our  feelings,  for  on  this  point  we  are 
sensitive.  Whoever  would  wish  to  leave  a  pleasant 
impression,  would  do  well  to  treat  our  pretensions 
with  consideration.  I  do  not  wish  you  to  treat  me 
so," she  said, interrupting  herself,  "but  I  am  solicitous 
on  your  account.  Yesterday  I  heard  you  flatly  con- 
tradicting my  father.  I  beg  of  you  to  have  regard  for 
our  weakness,  for  I  hope  that  you  are  still  to  re- 
main long  with  us." 

The  Professor  bowed.  "If  I  opposed  his  views 
more  warmly  than  was  necessary,  it  is  because  I  lie 
under  a  temptation  which  is  dangerous  to  men  of  my 
calling.  Disputation  is  the  weakness  of  men  of  learn- 
ing." 

"Good,  we  will  reckon  up  our  qualities  one  against 
the  other.  But  you  are  in  the  happy  position  of  al- 
ways attacking  things  boldly;  we,  on  the  contrary, 


1 88  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

must  be  cautiously  on  the  defensive.  The  great  im- 
portance of  external  appearances  is  instilled  into  us 
from  youth,  and  cannot  be  dispensed  with.  With  you 
there  is  probably  seldom  any  strife  about  precedence, 
and  I  fear  it  is  quite  immaterial  to  you  what  place  you 
take  in  our  degrees  of  rank;  but  these  things  are  great 
events  to  us,  not  only  to  our  Court,  but  still  more  to 
ourselves.  Many  of  us  are  for  days  unhappy,  because 
we  have  not  taken  our  proper  place  at  dinner.  Many 
visits  are  discontinued  on  that  account,  old  alliances 
are  broken  off,  and  there  is  frequent  quarrelling  behind 
the  scenes.  When  we  occasionally  meet  with  clever 
people  of  your  stamp,  we  ourselves  laugh  over  these 
weaknesses,  but  few  are  free  from  them.  I  have  already 
fought  for  my  place  at  dinner,  and  made  a  great  fuss 
about  it,"  she  added,  with  good-humored  frankness. 

"No  one  can  entirely  free  himself  from  the  ideas 
of  his  circle,"  replied  the  Professor,  courteously.  "A 
century  ago  there  was  the  same  tormenting  eagerness 
about  rank  and  social  precedence  among  the  citizens. 
With  us  it  has  become  different  since  our  life  has 
been  pervaded  with  a  strong  intellectual  element.  In 
the  future,  even  at  Court,  people  will  laugh  at  these 
things  as  antiquated  frippery." 

The  Princess  raised  her  little  finger  threateningly. 
"  Mr.  Werner,  that  was  spoken  again  as  the  learned 
man:  it  was  not  polite.  For,  though  we  move  entirely 
in  the  track  of  fashion  and  of  Court  manners,  we  do 
not  remain  behind  those  from  whom  we  are  socially 
separated." 

"Perhaps  it  is  because  you  separate  yourselves," 
said  the  Professor.  "The  warmest  pulse  of  our  nation 
has  always  been  in  the  middle  class;  from  them  edu- 
cation and  new  ideas  have  gradually  spread  to  the 


IN    THE    PAVILION.  1 89 

princes  and  the  people.  Even  the  peculiarities  and 
weaknesses  of  the  civilization  of  a  period  rise  to  the 
throne  generally  half  a  century  after  the  educated  middle 
class  of  the  nation  have  suffered  from  them,  and  are 
only  just  appreciated  there  when  they  are  already  giv- 
ing way  among  the  people  to  some  new  tendency  of 
the  time.  Therefore,  it  is  often  difficult  for  the  Sover- 
eign and  his  people  to  understand  each  other." 

"Oh,  how  right  you  are!"  exclaimed  the  Princess, 
drawing  nearer  to  him.  "  It  is  the  fate  of  princes, 
the  misfortune  of  us  all,  that  the  most  valuable  culture 
of  our  time  seldom  exercises  a  good  influence  upon  us. 
There  is  a  want  of  fresh  air  in  the  atmosphere  in 
which  we  live,  we  are  all  weak  and  sickly.  All  who 
approach  near  us  must  accommodate  themselves  to 
our  prejudices,  and  we  accustom  ourselves  to  regard 
men  according  to  the  rules  which  we  have  devised  for 
them  ourselves.  Have  you  ever  before  been  brought 
into  contact  with  any  of  our  great  rulers?" 

"No,"  replied  the  Professor. 

"Have  you  never  sent  what  you  have  written  to 
any  of  them?" 

"  I  have  had  no  occasion  to  do  so,"  replied  the 
Professor. 

"Then  you  are  unacquainted  with  the  scale  of 
favors  that  are  shown  to  you  learned  gentlemen. 
Now,  I  must  repay  you  for  the  delightful  instruction 
you  have  given  me  about  ancient  vases,  by  giving  you 
some  instruction  in  return.  Sit  down  opposite  to  me. 
You  are  now  my  pupil."  The  Princess  leaned  back  in 
her  chair,  and  assumed  a  serious  expression.  "We 
assume  that  you  are  pious  and  good,  and  look  up 
respectfully  to  the  handle  of  the  Imperial  globe  that 
we  hold  in  our  hand.  Your  first  presentation  comes, 


I  go  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

— a  handsome  book;  the  title-page  is  opened:  'Upon 
antique  vases.'  Hm — who  is  the  man?  One  informs 
oneself  a  little  about  the  fellow,  and  it  is  well  if  your 
name  is  already  to  be  found  in  print.  Thereupon  fol- 
lows an  answer  of  acknowledgment  from  the  Council, 
short  variations  according  to  formula  No.  i.  Your 
second  presentation  makes  its  appearance:  a  beautiful 
binding,  an  agreeable  impression,  therefore  a  warmer 
acknowledgment  in  courteous  expressions,  according 
to  formula  No.  2.  A  third  presentation:  again  a  large 
volume,  the  gilt  edges  are  unimpeachable;  the  Council 
take  the  book  up  and  weigh  it.  If  the  author  is  a 
lesser  light,  he  enters  the  class  of  gold  breastpins;  if 
he  is  worthy  of  a  higher  consideration,  from  a  well- 
known  name,  and  what  is  more  effective  with  us,  from 
a  title,  he  reaches  the  sphere  of  orders.  There  are 
different  classes  of  orders  which  are  distributed  among 
strangers,  accurately  according  to  their  titles.  But  he 
who  is  persistent,  and  does  not  tire  of  showing  fresh 
marks  of  respect,  hops  gradually,  like  the  green  frog, 
at  intervals  of  years,  to  the  highest  rank." 

"My  kindest  thanks  for  the  instruction,"  replied 
the  Professor.  "  I  must  be  allowed  in  this  case  to  take 
the  Council  under  my  protection.  For  what  could  the 
illustrious  gentlemen  do  when  they  are  overrun  with 
such  a  multitude  of  indifferent  presents?" 

"It  was  a  fair  example,"  said  the  Princess,  "of  how 
beautifully  we  have  arranged,  in  all  directions,  the 
steps  to  our  favor.  For  the  rest,  we  are,  with  respect 
to  what  we  accord  to  people,  not  only  civil,  but  econo- 
mical. He  who  has  no  colored  ribbons  to  give,  finds 
himself  greatly  inconvenienced.  But,"  continued  she, 
in  a  changed  tone,  "in  the  same  way  our  principal 
efforts  in  every  undertaking  are  made  with  an  eye  to 


IN    THE    PAVILION.  IQI 

vain  show  and  empty  forms;  and  as  hundreds  are  so 
weak  and"  abject  that  they  are  attracted  in  this  way, 
we  think  we  can  thus  attach  millions  to  us." 

"  Many  small  advantages  may  be  obtained  in  this 
manner,"  replied  the  Professor;  "  but  there  is  an  error 
in  your  reasoning;  he  who  tries  to  attach  men  to  him 
by  their  weakness,  vanity,  and  pride,  does  not  gain 
the  best  part  of  their  life.  In  quiet  times  this  attrac- 
tion is  unnecessary,  and  in  times  of  danger  it  has  only 
the  strength  of  a  rope  of  sand." 

The  Princess  nodded  her  head. 

"We  know  that  right  well,"  she  said,  confidingly; 
"and  we  do  not  feel  comfortable  and  secure,  in  spite 
of  the  profuse  distribution  of  honors.  What  I  tell  you 
would  sound  like  high  treason  to  my  illustrious  rela- 
tives, only  because  I  express  it,  not  because  I  think  it. 
Do  not  consider  me  the  black  sheep  of  the  flock,  there 
are  wiser  people  than  I  who  in  secret  form  the  same 
judgment;  but  we  cannot  find  our  way  out  of  the  bar- 
rier, and  we  cling  to  it,  although  we  know  that  the 
support  is  weak.  For  as  the  humming-bird  gazes  on 
the  serpent,  so  do  we  view  the  prospect  that  the 
present  age  opens  before  us,  with  a  shudder  and  help- 
less expectation."  She  rose.  "But  I  am  a  woman, 
and  have  no  right  to  speak  with  you  upon  these  im- 
portant subjects.  When  I  feel  uneasy  I  use  the  right 
of  women — to  complain— which  I  have  done  abund- 
antly to  you.  For  I  have  it  at  heart  to  please  you, 
Mr.  Werner.  I  wish  you  to  consider  me  as  a  woman 
who  deserves  something  better  than  complaisant 
words  and  polite  nothings.  Allow  me  often  the  pleas- 
ure of  rectifying  my  judgment  by  yours." 

She  put  out  her  hand  to  the  learned  man  with 
hearty  confidence.  Werner  bowed  low,  and  left  the 


1 92  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

room.  The  Princess  looked  after  him  with  a  pleased 
expression. 

The  Professor  went  fresh  from  the  conversation 
to  the  pavilion,  and  told  his  wife  all  that  had  passed. 

"  I  did  net  consider  it  possible,"  he  exclaimed,  "to 
find  a  woman  of  this  rank  with  so  liberal  and  high- 
minded  an  understanding  of  her  position.  What  was 
most  charming  was  her  animated  and  unaffected  man- 
ner— a  charm  that  made  itself  felt  at  every  moment, 
both  in  voice  and  movement.  I  am  enchanted  with 
the  little  lady.  I  will  immediately  prepare  the  book 
that  she  wished  for." 

He  seated  himself  at  the  table,  marked  out  pas- 
sages, and  wrote  remarks  on  small  strips  of  paper, 
which  he  laid  within. 

Use  was  sitting  by  the  window,  looking  at  her 
husband  in  astonishment.  It  was  no  wonder  that  the 
Princess  pleased  him.  Use  herself  had  with  the  quick 
intuition  of  a  woman  perceived  her  power  of  attrac- 
tion. Here  was  a  soul  that,  amidst  the  constraint  of 
her  Court,  longed  for  intercourse  with  a  man  of  liberal 
culture;  here  was  a  powerful  mind  that  rose  above  the 
prejudices  of  rank, —  clever,  light  of  fancy,  and  quick 
of  comprehension.  Now  this  woman  had  found  a  man 
to  whom  she  could  look  up,  and  with  her  little  hands 
she  cast  her  fetters  about  him. 

The  room  was  becoming  dark.  Felix  was  still 
sitting  writing  and  making  notes.  The  rays  of  the 
evening  sun  shone  upon  his  head,  but  the  dark  shadow 
of  the  unfamiliar  room  hovered  over  Use.  She  rose 
from  her  chair  behind  her  husband. 

"He  is  good  to  me,"  she  said  to  herself;  "he  loves 
me,  as  one  always  does  the  person  whom  one  has 
taken  into  confidence.  He  is  not  like  other  men;  he 


TWO    NEW    GUESTS.  193 

will  not  allow  a  stranger  to  take  away  my  rights;  he  is 
innocent  as  a  child,  and  does  not  perceive  the  danger 
that  threatens  him  and  me.  Take  care,  Use,  not  to 
awake  the  night- wanderer.  I,  fool!  What  right  have 
I  to  complain  if  another  should  benefit  by  his  rich 
mind?  Have  I  not  enough  for  myself  in  the  treasure 
of  his^life?  No,"  she  exclaimed,  and  threw  her  arms 
round  her  husband's  neck;  "you  belong  to  me,  and  I 
will  have  you  entirely." 

The  Professor  raised  his  head,  and  his  look  of 
astonishment  brought  Use  to  her  senses. 

"Forgive  me,"  she  said,  feebly;  "I  was  thinking." 

"What  is  the  matter,  Use?"  he  asked,  kindly; 
"your  cheeks  are  hot.  Are  you  ill?" 

"It  will  pass  over;  have  patience  with  me." 

The  Professor  left  his  book,  and  occupied  himself 
anxiously  about  his  wife. 

"Open  the  window,"  she  said  softly.  "The  air  of 
the  close  room  feels  heavy  to  me." 

He  was  so  tenderly  concerned  about  her  that  she 
again  looked  cheerfully  at  him. 

"It  was  a  foolish  weakness,  Felix;  it  has  passed 
away." 

CHAPTER  XXIX. 

TWO     NEW     GUESTS. 

The  Professor  was  standing  with  the  Chamberlain 
and  the  Sovereign  in  the  study.  The  latter  held  in 
his  hand  the  memorial  that  Werner  had  prepared  re- 
specting the  new  catalogue  of  the  museum. 

"Only  now  can  I  form  an  estimate  concerning  the 
extent  of  the  catalogue  which  you  consider  necessary. 
I  am  ready  to  agree  to  your  proposals,  if  you  will  bind 


1 94  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

yourself  to  undertake  the  superintendence  of  the  new 
arrangement  and  of  the  catalogue.  If  you  cannot  do 
us  this  service,  everything  must  remain  as  before,  for 
only  the  great  confidence  which  I  have  in  you,  and  the 
wish  to  keep  you  here,  will  induce  me  to  make  the 
necessary  sacrifice.  You  see  I  make  the  undertaking 
dependent  upon  the  degree  of  inclination  which  you 
yourself  have  for  this  work." 

The  Professor  replied  that  his  presence  might  be 
desirable  for  the  introductory  arrangements,  and  that 
he  was  ready  to  spend  some  weeks  upon  it.  After- 
wards, it  would  be  sufficient  if  from  time  to  time  he 
examined' the  progress  of  the  work. 

"With  this  I  shall  be  content  for  the  present,"  said 
the  Sovereign,  after  a  pause;  "our  contract  is,  then, 
concluded.  But  I  see  that  it  will  be  necessary  to  get 
some  one  who  will  carry  out  the  details  under  your 
guidance.  Will  the  Curator  be  able  to  it?" 

The  Professor  thought  not. 

"And  could  you  propose  any  one?" 

The  Professor  thought  over  the  old  members  of 
his  circle. 

But  the  proper  man  at  once  occurred  to  the  Cham- 
berlain. 

"Would  not  Magister  Knips  do  for  this  work?" 

"Just  the  man,"  said  the  Professor;  "industry, 
knowledge,  everything  about  him,  makes  him  pe- 
culiarly adapted  for  it.  I  believe  that  he  may  be  had 
at  once.  I  can  answer  for  his  trustworthiness  with  re- 
spect to  the  care  of  objects  of  value.  But  I  cannot 
take  this  responsibility  upon  me  without  disclosing  to 
your  Highness  that  once  in  his  life,  from  want  of  cau- 
tion, he  was  implicated  in  a  disagreeable  affair,  that 


TWO    NEW    GUESTS.  IQ5 

lessened  the  confidence,  not  only  of  myself,  but  of 
many  of  his  acquaintances." 

The  Professor  then  related,  with  forbearance 
towards  all  concerned,  the  history  of  the  forged  parch- 
ment sheet  of  Tacitus. 

The  Sovereign  listened  with  interest,  and  pondered. 

"With  respect  to  the  safety  of  the  collection,  the 
old  catalogue  will  allow  of  constant  control.  You  con- 
sider the  Magister  innocent  of  this  deception?" 

"I  do   consider  him  so,"  replied  the  learned  man. 

"Then  I  request  you  to  write  him." 

Some  days  afterwards  Magister  Knips  entered  the 
capital.  He  carried  his  travelling-bag  and  hat-box  to 
an  unpretending  inn,  at  once  clad  himself  in  the  dress 
which  he  had  always  spoken  of  to  his  mother  as  his 
livery,  and  sought  the  Professor  at  the  Pavilion. 
Gabriel  saw  the  figure  in  the  distance  passing  through 
the  blooming  shrubs,  his  head  on  his  shoulder  and  his 
hat  in  his  hand;  for  Knips  considered  it  proper  to  un- 
cover his  head  in  the  sacred  precincts  of  the  castle,  and 
entered  like  a  walking  bow  into  the  distinguished  ho- 
rizon. The  Professor  could  not  conceal  a  smile  when 
he  saw  the  Magister  in  courtly  attire,  polished  and 
fragrant,  standing  before  him,  with  two  low  obeisances. 

"It  was  the  Chamberlain  who  proposed  you  for 
this  occupation,  and  I  did  not  object  to  it.  For  on  the 
supposition  that  you  will  be  suitably  remunerated,  an 
opportunity  for  work  is  afforded  which  may  per- 
haps raise  you  for  good  above  your  insignificant  occu- 
pation, and  which,  if  dutifully  carried  out,  will  entitle 
you  not  only  to  our  warmest  thanks,  but  to  those  of 
the  whole  learned  world.  Your  conduct  here  may 
therefore  be  decisive  for  the  rest  of  your  life.  Remem- 
ber, also,  every  hour,  Mr.  Magister,  that  you  have  to 


196  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

show  conscientiousness  and  fidelity,  not  only  to  learn- 
ing, but  also  with  respect  to  the  property  of  the  prince 
who  has  called  you  to  this  post  of  confidence." 

"When  I  read  the  letter  of  the  right  honorable  and 
most  highly  respected  Professor,"  answered  Knips, 
"  I  did  not  doubt  that  his  kind  intentions  were  to  give 
me  the  opportunity  of  assuming  a  new  character  in 
life.  Therefore,  upon  entering  the  portals  of  an  un- 
known career,  I  entreat  with  deep  emotion,  above  all, 
for  the  continuation  of  your  good  opinion,  which  I  trust 
to  be  able  to  deserve  by  faithful  obedience." 

"Very  well  then,"  concluded  the  Professor;  "an- 
nounce yourself  to  the  Chamberlain." 

The  day  following  Knips  was  sitting  before  a  row 
of  antique  lamps,  with  brown  Holland  sleeves  to  pre- 
serve his  dress  coat,  his  pen  behind  his  ear,  sur- 
rounded by  the  books  of  the  castle  library;  he  opened 
them,  compared,  wrote,  and  was  as  active  in  his  work 
as  if  he  had  all  his  life  been  a  clerk  in  a  bric-a-brac 
establishment  of  ancient  Rome. 

The  Chamberlain  announced  before  dinner,  with 
satisfaction,  to  the  Hereditary  Prince,  "  Magister  Knips 
has  come;"  and  the  Prince  repeated  to  his  sister,  "The 
wise  Knips  is  here." 

"Ah,  the  Magister!"  said  the  father,  with  equal 
good  humor. 

The  same  week  the  Sovereign  was  taken  by  the 
Chamberlain  into  the  museum,  in  order  that  Knips 
might  fall  under  his  notice.  The  Sovereign  looked  with 
curiosity  upon  the  lowly  bent  man,  who  perspired 
with  fright,  and  who  now  quite  resembled  a  mouse 
which  is  prevented  by  a  powerful  fascination  from  dis- 
appearing into  its  hole.  The  Sovereign  discovered 
immediately  what  he  called  a  subaltern  nature;  and 


TWO    NEW   GUESTS.  197 

the  pale  flat  face,  retreating  chin,  and  dolorous  aspect, 
appeared  to  amuse  him.  In  passing,  he  remarked  the 
rampart  of  books  from  which  Knips  had  emerged. 

"You  have  made  yourself  quickly  at  home;  I  hope 
that  you  will  find  all  the  books  that  are  indispensable 
to  your  work." 

"  I  have  ventured,"  said  Knips  in  a  high  and  rasp- 
ing voice,  "to  borrow  from  your  Highness's  library 
much  that  I  needed.  My  wants  are  moderate,  and 
what  I  lacked,  I  have  managed,  through  the  assistance 
of  honored  patrons,  to  obtain  from  the  university 
library  of  my  native  city." 

The  Sovereign  answered  with  a  short  nod,  and  pro- 
ceeded. Magister  Knips  remained  standing  in  an  at- 
titude of  deferent  respect  till  the  Sovereign  had  left  the 
room,  when  he  returned  to  his  chair,  and,  without  turn- 
ing to  the  right  or  left,  resumed  his  writing.  Whenever 
the  Sovereign  entered  or  left  the  room  he  started  up 
and  sank  down  again,  as  if  turned  into  an  automaton 
by  his  great  respect. 

"Are  you  satisfied  with  him?"  asked  the  Sovereign, 
of  the  Professor. 

"Beyond  expectation,"  answered  the  latter. 

The  Chamberlain,  pleased  by  his  recommendation, 
reminded  his  master  that  Knips  was  also  an  excellent 
painter  of  coats  of  arms,  and  possessed  remarkable 
knowledge  of  the  customs  and  regulations  of  the  old 
Court  festivals. 

When  the  Sovereign  left  the  gallery  he  cast  a  dig- 
nified glance  over  the  bent  head  of  the  little  man;  but 
Knips  might  well  be  pleased  with  the  results  of  this 
presentation,  for  he  was  pronounced  very  respectful, 
and  regarded  useful  for  further  projects. 

He  had  soon  an  opportunity  of  showing  his  useful- 


198  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

ness  in  an  extraordinary  case.  The  arrangements  of 
the  Court  were  in  every  respect  exemplary,  and  not 
least  when  the  Sovereign  wished  to  show  some  mark 
of  attention.  A  confidential  councillor  kept  a  list  of 
the  birthdays  on  which  the  Sovereign  was  bound  to 
make  a  present,  and  also  of  the  popular  festivals  where 
it  was  necessary  for  him  to  present  a  silver  cup  or 
some  other  testimony  of  his  royal  sympathy.  On  this 
list  was  noted  down  the  fixed  value  of  the  present; 
and  as  the  time  approached  the  councillor  sent  the 
necessary  information  to  the  Chamberlain,  whose  busi- 
ness it  was  to  choose  a  suitable  present.  On  the  birth- 
day of  any  member  of  the  princely  family  the  Cham- 
berlain only  made  suggestions;  the  Sovereign  himself 
decided  what  was  to  be  given. 

Now  the  birthday  of  the  Princess  was  approaching. 
The  gentleman-in-waiting,  therefore,  made  a  visit  to 
her  lady-in-waiting,  in  order  to  discover  secretly  what 
the  Princess  would  like.  In  this  not  uncommon  way 
many  things  were  proposed;  the  Chamberlain  of  his 
own  idea  added  modern  trifles,  among  them  copies  of 
colored  initial  letters,  which  just  then  were  painted  in 
albums  and  letter-sheets,  for  he  knew  that  the  Princess 
had  wished  for  things  of  the  kind.  The  Sovereign 
glanced  over  the  list,  and  at  last  stopped  at  the  initial 
letters. 

"  These  Parisian  manufactures  will  hardly  please  the 
Princess.  Could  she  not  have  painted  letters  copied 
from  old  parchments  by  a  draughtsman?  Did  you  not 
extol  Magister  Knips  to  me?  He  could  prepare  very 
pretty  little  designs." 

The  Chamberlain  expressed  deferent  surprise  at 
his  Highness's  idea,  and  sought  the  Magister.  Knips 
promised  to  paint  all  the  letters  of  the  alphabet  in  the 


TWO    NEW    GUESTS.  IQQ 

old  characters,  and  the  Chamberlain  meanwhile  looked 
after  the  cover.  When  the  work  of  the  Magister  was 
laid  before  the  Sovereign  he  was  indeed  surprised. 

"These  are  like  the  beautiful  old  rubrics,"  he  ex- 
claimed; "how  do  they  come  here?" 

Every  letter  was  so  painted  on  the  old  parchment 
that  at  cursory  glance  it  could  not  be  discovered 
whether  the  work  was  old  or  new. 

"This  shows  wonderful  talent;  take  care  that  the 
man  is  compensated  according  to  the  value  of  his 
service." 

Knips  lapsed  into  a  state  of  respectful  transport 
when  the  Chamberlain  demonstrated  to  him  the  satis- 
faction of  the  Sovereign  in  shining  coins.  But  it  did 
not  end  there.  For  shortly  afterwards  the  Sovereign 
visited  the  museum  at  the  time  when  Knips  was  work- 
ing. The  Sovereign  stopped  again  in  front  of  the  Mag- 
ister, and  said: 

"I  was  delighted  with  your  pictures.  You  possess 
a  rare  aptitude:  both  eyes  and  judgment  might  be  de- 
ceived by  the  counterfeit  of  antiquity." 

"Your  most  gracious  Highness  must  pardon  me  if, 
on  account  of  shortness  of  time,  the  imitation  was  im- 
perfect," replied  the  bowing  Knips. 

"I  am  quite  satisfied  with  it,"  rejoined  the  Sover- 
eign, examining  sharply  the  countenance  and  bearing 
of  the  little  man.  He  began  to  vouchsafe  a  feeling  of 
interest  for  the  Magister.  "You  must  have  formerly 
had  opportunities  of  exercising  this  art  in  a  remu- 
nerative way." 

"It  has  been  reserved  for  your  Highness  to  render 
my  little  dexterity  valuable  to  me,"  replied  Knips; 
"hitherto  I  have  only  practised  such  imitations  for  my 
own  pleasure,  or  here  and  there  to  please  others." 


200  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

The  Sovereign  laughed,  and  went  away  with  a 
gracious  nod.  Magister  Knips  was  judged  to  be  very 

useful. 

* 
*  * 

The  Princess  was  sitting  at  her  writing-table;  the 
pen  in  her  little  hand  flew  over  the  paper;  sometimes 
she  looked  into  a  book,  which  had  a  learned  appear- 
ance, and  copied  passages  which  were  designated  by 
marks.  Steps  in  the  ante-room  disturbed  her  work; 
the  Hereditary  Prince  entered,  with  an  officer  in  for- 
eign uniform. 

"Sit  down,  children!"  exclaimed  the  Princess. 
"Put  aside  your  sabre,  Victor,  and  come  to  me.  You 
have  become  a  handsome  fellow:  one  can  see  that  you 
have  taken  your  place  among  strangers." 

"  I  am  breaking  my  way  through,"  replied  Victor, 
shrugging  his  shoulders,  and  laying  his  sabre  cautious- 
ly near,  that  he  might  reach  it  with  his  hand. 

"Be  tranquil,"  said  the  Princess,  consolingly;  "we 
are  now  safe;  he  is  busy." 

"  If  he  said  so,  we  must  not  depend  upon  it,"  re- 
plied Victor.  "  You  have  become  serious,  Siddy.  Even 
the  room  is  changed — books,  nothing  but  books."  He 
opened  one  at  the  title-page.  "'Archaeology  of  Art.' 
Tell  me,  what  are  you  doing  with  this  trash?" 

"I  am  breaking  my  way  through,"  repeated  Siddy, 
shrugging  her  shoulders. 

"Siddy  patronizes  learning,"  explained  the  Hered- 
itary Prince.  "We  now  have  literary  tea-parties,  she 
has  pieces  read  and  roles  assigned.  Take  care,  you 
will  have  to  join  it." 

"I  only  read  villains'  parts,"  replied  Victor;  "or, 
at  the  most  valets'  roles." 

"The  inferior  parts  are  always  my  share,"  said  the 


TWO    NEW    GUESTS.  2OI 

Hereditary  Prince.  "The  best  that  falls  to  my  lot  is  a 
good-natured  father,  who  ends  by  giving  his  blessing." 

"He  has  talent  for  nothing  but  open-hearted  good- 
ness; he  protests  if  he  has  more  than  four  verses  to  re- 
cite, and  even  with  that  there  are  pauses  during  which 
he  fidgets  with  his  lorgnette." 

"His- proper  vocation  would  be  that  of  pastor,"  said 
Victor,  mockingly.  "He  would  favor  his  congrega- 
tion with  short  sermons,  and  set  them  a  virtuous  ex- 
ample." 

"If  he  were  only  better  than  you,  there  would  be 
no  merit  in  it,  Victor.  You  have  the  reputation  of 
playing  such  naughty  tricks  that  we  are  not  allowed 
even  to  know  them?" 

"All  calumny!"  cried  Victor.  "  I  am  harshly  judged 
in  my  regiment  because  of  my  strict  principles." 

"Then  Heaven  preserve  us  from  an  invasion  of 
your  comrades.  I  am  glad  that  you  mean  to  pass 
your  leave  of  absence  in  our  parts;  but  I  am  surprised 
at  it.  You  are  free:  the  whole  world  is  open  to  you." 

"Yes,  free  as  a  jackdaw  that  is  thrown  out  of  its 
nest,"  replied  Victor;  "but  there  are  times  when  it 
occurs  to  one  that  a  garrison  has  not  all  the  charms  of 
home." 

"And  that  you  seek  with  us?"  asked  the  Princess. 
"Poor  cousin!  But  meanwhile  you  have  been  cam- 
paigning. I  congratulate  you.  We  hear  that  you 
behaved  gallantly." 

"I  had  a  good  horse,"  said  Victor,,  laughing. 

"You  have  also  visited  all  our  relations?" 

"I  have  penetrated  the  mysteries  of  three  Courts," 
replied  Victor.  "First,  at  my  cousin's,  the  innocent 
shepherd's  Court, — a  charming  rural  life!  The  Grand 
Marshal  carries  embroidery  in  his  pocket,  at  which  he 


202  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

works  among  the  ladies.  The  lady-in-waiting  comes 
with  her  spaniel  to  dinner,  and  has  him  fed  in  the 
kitchen.  Twice  every  week  people  are  invited  from 
the  city  to  tea  and  pastry.  When  the  family  are  alone 
at  their  tea  they  play  for  hazel-nuts.  I  believe  that 
they  are  gathered  in  the  autumn  by  the  whole  Court. 
Then  I  went  to  the  Court  of  my  great-uncle,  with  the 
six-foot  grenadiers.  I  was  the  smallest  of  the  society. 
One  day  all  were  in  the  costume  of  generals,  the  day 
after  all  were  Nimrods,  in  hunting-coats  and  gaiters. 
One  day  it  was  drilling,  and  the  next  hunting.  Powder 
is  the  greatest  article  of  consumption  at  Court  there. 
Even  the  ballet-dancers,  they  say,  wear  uniforms  under 
their  gauze.  Lastly,  there  was  the  great  Court  of 
Aunt  Louisa.  All  with  white  heads  and  powder.  Any 
one  with  the  hair  of  youth  endeavoured  to  rid  of  it  as 
quickly  as  possible.  In  the  evening  virtuous  family 
conversation,  and  if  any  talked  scandal,  they  would  on 
the  following  morning  receive  an  order  from  the 
Princess  to  contribute  to  some  benevolent  institution. 
The  Princess  Minna  asked  me  whether  I  attended 
church  regularly,  and  when  I  told  her  that  at  all  events 
I  played  regularly  at  whist  with  our  chaplain,  I  was 
held  in  great  contempt.  She  danced  the  first  country 
dance  with  her  brother  and  only  the  second  with  me. 
The  evening  society  was  accurately  arranged  accord- 
ing to  the  respective  dignities  of  the  guests.  There 
was  the  hall  of  the  Privy  Councillors,  of  the  Chamber- 
lains, and  of  the  small  folk  of  the  Court;  and,  besides 
that,  a  lower  place  for  an  unavoidable  class  of  citizens, 
in  which  bankers  and  artists  wait  to  be  noticed  by 
their  Highnesses." 

"These  formalities  make  us  ridiculous  to  the  whole 
world,"  exclaimed  the  Hereditary  Prince. 


TWO    NEW    GUESTS.  203 

The  Princess  and  Victor  laughed  at  this  sudden 
ebullition. 

"Since  when  has  Benno  become  a  Red?"  asked 
Victor. 

"  It  is  the  first  time  I  have  heard  him  speak  in  this 
way,"  said  the  Princess. 

"A  prince  should  only  invite  gentlemen  into  his 
society;  but  whoever  is  there  should  be  considered 
as  the  equal  of  the  rest,"  continued  the  Hereditary 
Prince. 

Again  the  others  laughed. 

"We  thank  you  for  the  wise  remark,  Professor 
Bonbon,"  cried  Siddy. 

"It  was  in  this  room  that  we  dressed  you  up  as  an 
owl,  Bonbon;  and  you  sat  here  groaning  under  Siddy's 
mantle  when  the  Sovereign  surprised  us." 

"  And  where  you  received  punishment,"  replied 
Benno,  "because  you  had  so  disfigured  a  poor  fellow 
like  me." 

"Fix  him  up  again!"  cried  Siddy. 

"Victor  took  a  colored  silk  handkerchief,  formed 
two  points  by  knots  for  ear-tufts,  and  covered  the  head 
of  the  Hereditary  Prince,  who  quietly  submitted.  His 
serious  face,  with  his  dark  eyebrows,  looked  strangely 
from  under  the  covering. 

"The  feather-coat  is  wanting,"  exclaimed  Siddy; 
"we  must  imagine  it.  I  am  the  quail,  and  Victor  the 
cock.  I  know  the  melody  that  we  used  to  improvise 
as  children." 

She  flew  to  the  pianoforte  and  ran  over  the  notes. 
The  Hereditary  Prince  twisted  the  theatre-bill,  which 
he  pulled  out  of  his  pocket,  into  a  cornet,  and  cried 
into  it,  "Tu-whit,  tu-whoo,  Mrs. Quail,  I  eat  you." 

The   quail    sang:   "Pik  werwit  old    tu-wooh,  that 


204  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

you  will  not  do."  And  the  cock  crows,  "Cock-a-doo- 
dle-doo, dearest  quail,  I  love  you." 

"That  has  never  been  true,  Victor,"  said  the 
Princess,  in  the  midst  of  the  game. 

"Who  knows?"  rejoined  he;  "cock-a-doodle-doo." 

The  concert  was  in  full  flow.  Victor  sprang  about, 
clapped  his  hands  and  crowed;  the  Hereditary  Prince 
on  his  chair  screeched  unweariedly  like  an  owl;  Siddy 
moved  her  head  in  time,  sang  her  pik-wer-wit,  calling 
out  occasionally,  "You  are  very  funny  little  boys." 
A  slight  knocking  was  heard;  they  quickly  left  off  their 
play;  the  sabre  was  restored  to  its  belt;  and  the  quail 
became  in  a  moment  the  distinguished  lady. 

"  His  Grace  your  father  begs  to  inform  your  High- 
ness that  he  will  wait  upon  you,"  announced  the  page. 

"  I  knew  that  he  would  disturb  us,"  cried  Victor, 
in  a  rage. 

"Away  with  you,  children,"  cried  Princess  Sidonie. 
"  I  must  repeat  once  more,  cousin,  that  I  rejoice  to 
have  you  with  us  again.  We  three  will  hold  together. 
Benno  is  brave,  and  my  only  comfort.  Avoid  con- 
versing with  me  whenever  the  Sovereign  is  present. 
I  will  not  take  it  amiss  if  you  do  not  notice  me  at  all. 
The  spy  who  is  placed  about  me  is  now  my  maid  of 
honor,  Lossau.  Every  word  that  you  speak  in  her 
presence  is  reported;  you  know  the  gentlemen,  they 
have  not  become  more  pleasant." 

"  There  is  Benno's  Chamberlain,"  asked  Victor; 
"the  Sovereign  was  talking  to  him  a  long  time  to-day." 

"He  is  good-humored,  but  weak,"  remarked  the 
Hereditary  Prince;  "and  devoted  to  his  place.  There 
is  no  dependence  on  him." 

"  Try  to  behave  well,  Victor,"  continued  the  Princess; 
"be  a  good  Chinese,  and  wear  your  pigtail  according 


TWO    NEW    GUESTS.  205 

to  rule,  and  deport  yourself  exactly  according  to  the 
privileges  of  the  tuft  that  you  wear  on  your  cap.  Now, 
away  with  you  down  the  private  staircase." 

Princess  Sidonie  hastened  to  the  door  of  the  re- 
ception-room to  meet  the  Sovereign.  The  Sovereign 
passed  through  the  rooms  to  her  study.  He  cast  a 
glance  at  the  open  book: 

"Who  has  made  these  marks?" 

"Mr.  Werner  noted  the  most  important  passages 
for  me,"  replied  the  Princess. 

"I  am  glad  that  you  make  use  of  this  opportunity 
to  obtain  instruction  from  so  distinguished  a  man. 
Apart  from  the  pedantic  manner  which  attaches  to 
his  profession,  he  is  a  remarkable  man.  I  wish, 
on  account  of  his  disinterested  activity,  to  make  his 
position  as  agreeable  as  possible,  and  I  beg  that  you 
will  do  your  best  towards  accomplishing  it." 

The  Princess  bowed  silently,  closing  her  hand 
convulsively. 

"As  it  is  impossible  to  bring  him  and  his  wife  into 
closer  relations  with  the  Court,  I  wish  you  would  in- 
vite them  to  one  of  your  little  tea-parties." 

"You  must  pardon  me,  my  most  worthy  father,  if 
I  do  not  see  how  this  can  be.  My  evening  parties 
have  hitherto  consisted  only  of  my  ladies  and  the 
principal  members  of  the  Court." 

"Then  you  must  alter  that,"  said  the  Sovereign, 
coldly;  "you  are  not  prevented  from  introducing  into 
it  one  or  other  of  our  officials,  with  their  wives." 

"Pardon  me,  my  father;  as  this  has  never  yet  hap- 
pened, every  one  would  remark  that  the  change  has 
only  been  occasioned  through  the  strangers.  It  would 
occasion  much  ill-natured  remark  if  an  accidental  visit 


2O6  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

were  to  upset  what  has  been  the  acknowledged  rule  up 
to  the  present  day." 

"The  consideration  of  foolish  gossip  shall  not  pre- 
vent you,"  replied  the  Sovereign,  angrily. 

"  My  gracious  father  must  take  a  favorable  view  of 
the  considerations  which  hinder  my  doing  anything  of 
the  kind.  It  would  not  become  me,  a  woman,  to  dis- 
pense with  the  habits  and  customs  which  my  lord  and 
father  has  considered  binding  upon  himself.  You  have 
deigned  to  permit  the  attendance  of  Mr.  Werner  at 
your  small  dinners,  and  I  could,  without  giving  any 
uncommon  offence,  receive  him  at  my  tea-table.  His 
wife,  on  the  other  hand,  has  never  been  brought  into 
relations  with  the  Court  through  your  own  sanction. 
It  would  ill  become  the  daughter  to  venture  what  the 
father  himself  has  not  done." 

"This  reason  is  a  poor  disguise  for  ill-nature,"  re- 
plied the  Sovereign.  "Nothing  hinders  you  from  leav- 
ing out  the  whole  Court." 

"  I  can  have  no  evening  society,  however  small, 
without  inviting  the  ladies  of  the  Court,"  replied  the 
Princess,  pertinaciously;  "and  I  cannot  ask  them  to 
take  part  in  a  mixed  society." 

"I  will  take  care  that  Miss  von  Lossau  shall  ap- 
pear," replied  the  Sovereign,  in  a  bitter  tone.  "I  in- 
sist upon  your  conforming  to  my  wishes." 

"  Forgive  me,  gracious  father,"  replied  the  Princess, 
in  great  excitement, "  if  I  do  not  obey  you  in  this  case." 

"  Do  you  dare  to  defy  me?"  cried  the  Sovereign,  with 
a  sudden  outbreak  of  anger,  approaching  the  Princess. 

The  Princess  turned  pale,  and  stepped  behind  a 
chair  as  if  for  protection. 

"I  am  the  only  lady  of  our  house,"  she  exclaimed; 
"and  I  have  in  this  high  position  to  pay  regard  to  con- 


TWO    NEW    GUESTS.  207 

siderations  from  which,  neither  as  the  lord  of  this 
Court,  nor  as  my  own  father,  you  can  release  me.  If 
your  Highness  chooses  to  make  new  Court  regulations, 
I  will  willingly  conform  to  them;  but  what  your  High- 
ness requires  of  me  now  is  not  a  new  regulation,  but 
an  irregularity  which  is  humiliating  for  me  and  for  us  all." 

"Impertinent,  insolent  fool!"  cried  the  Sovereign, 
no  longer  master  of  himself.  "  Do  you  think  you  have 
outgrown  my  control  because  I  once  let  you  out  of 
my  hands?  I  have  brought  you  here  in  order  to  hold 
you  fast.  You  are  in  my  power;  no  slave  is  more  so. 
Within  these  walls  no  power  prevails  but  mine,  and  if 
you  do  not  bend  to  it,  I  will  break  your  stubborn  spirit." 

He  approached  her  threateningly.  The  Princess 
drew  back  to  the  wall  of  her  room. 

"I  know  I  am  your  prisoner,"  she  cried  out,  with 
flashing  eyes.  "I  knew  when  I  returned  here  that  I 
was  entering  my  prison.  I  knew  that  no  cry  of  anguish 
could  penetrate  these  walls,  and  that  a  slave  would 
find  more  protection  among  men  than  the  child  of  a 
prince  from  her  father.  But  in  this  room  I  have  a 
supporter,  to  whom  I  often  look  imploringly;  and  if 
your  Highness  deprives  me  of  the  help  of  all  the  liv- 
ing, I  call  upon  the  dead  for  protection  against  you." 

She  pulled  the  cord  of  a  curtain,  and  the  life-sized 
picture  of  a  lady  became  visible,  in  whose  soft  counten- 
ance there  was  a  touching  expression  of  sorrow.  The 
Princess  pointed  to  the  picture  and  looked  fixedly  at 
the  Sovereign. 

"Will  your  Highness  venture  to  insult  your  daugh- 
ter before  the  eyes  of  her  mother?" 

The  Sovereign  drew  back,  and  gave  vent  to  a  hoarse 
murmur,  turned  away,  and  motioned  with  his  hand. 

"Cover  the  picture,"  he   said,   in   a  feeble  voice. 


2O8  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

"  Do  not  excite  yourself  and  me  unnecessarily,"  he 
began,  in  a  changed  tone.  "  If  you  do  not  choose  to 
fulfill  my  wishes,  I  will  not  insist  upon  it."  He  took 
his  hat  from  the  table,  and  continued,  in  a  softer  tone: 
"You  are  beloved  by  the  citizens;  the  weather  is  as 
warm  as  summer,  and  promises  to  last.  I  will,  on 
your  birthday,  arrange  to  have  a  morning  concert  for 
the  officials  and  the  citizens  in  the  park.  I  will  send 
you  a  list  of  invitations  through  the  Lord  High 
Steward.  In  the  evening  we  shall  have  a  gala-supper 
and  visit  the  opera." 

The  Sovereign  left  the  room  without  looking  at  his 
daughter.  The  Princess  followed  him  to  the  ante- 
room, where  the  attendants  were  standing.  At  the  door 
she  made  a  low  curtsy.  The  Sovereign  gave  a  friendly 
sign  with  his  hand.  The  Princess  then  flew  back  into 
her  room,  threw  herself  down  before  the  picture,  and 
wrung  her  hands. 


The  Princes  were  walking  in  the  park,  and  the  prom- 
enaders  bowed  and  looked  after  them.  The  He- 
reditary Prince  took  off  his  hat  with  the  dignity  of 
a  man;  Victor  touched  his  hussar  cap  lightly,  and  nod- 
ded sometimes  familiarly  to  a  pretty  face. 

"All  old  acquaintances,"  he  began;  "it  is  a  pleasure, 
indeed,  to  be  home  again." 

"You  always  were  a  favorite  of  the  people,"  said 
the  Hereditary  Prince. 

"I  have  amused  and  provoked  them,"  replied 
Victor  laughing.  "I  feel  like  Hercules  with  his  mother 
earth,  and  am  ready  for  any  mischief.  Benno,  do  not 
look  so  dejected;  I  cannot  stand  it." 

"If  you  had,  like  me,  to  walk  always  at  the  same 


TWO    NEW    GUESTS.  2OQ 

hour  you  would  look  so  too,"  replied  Benno,  stopping 
before  an  empty  water-tank,  in  which  four  little  bears 
were  sitting,  looking  at  the  public,  who  were  throwing 
bread  to  them.  The  Hereditary  Prince  took  a  piece 
of  bread  from  the  keeper,  who  approached  him  hat  in 
hand,  and  threw  it  mechanically  to  the  bears.  "  And 
if  you  had  by  high  command  to  show  yourself  every 
day  as  the  friend  of  the  people,  and  feed  these  stupid 
bears,  you  would  also  weary  of  them." 

"Pooh!"  exclaimed  Victor,  "it  only  depends  upon 
yourself  to  make  these  louts  amusing." 

He  sprang  with  one  jump  into  the  walled  place 
among  the  animals,  laid  hold  of  the  first  bear  as  a 
sheep  is  carried  to  be  shorn,  threw  it  upon  the  second, 
and  the  third  upon  the  fourth;  a  horrible  growling  and 
clawing  began  among  the  bears;  they  fought  violently 
together,  and  the  bystanders  shouted  with  pleasure. 

"Your  hand,  comrade,"  called  out  the  Prince,  to 
one  of  the  spectators,  who  were  watching  him  and 
giving  vent  to  loud  expressions  of  approbation.  "Help 
me  out." 

The  person  called  upon  was  our  friend  Gabriel, 
who  held  out  both  hands. 

"Here,  your  Excellence,  quick,  that  they  don't 
catch  your  uniform." 

Victor  sprang  lightly  up,  giving  his  supporter  a  slap 
on  the  shoulder. 

"Thanks,  comrade;  if  you  ever  get  into  a  fix,  I 
will  lend  you  a  hand  too." 

The  people  cried  "Bravo!"  with  much  laughter. 

"You  must  force  life  into  the  place,"  said  Victor. 
"If  your  father  does  not  drive  me  away,  I  shall  in  a 
week  make  it  as  lively  at  your  Court  as  I  have  done 
Jiere  in  the  bear-pit." 


2IO  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

"  I,  meanwhile,  have  suffered  for  it,"  replied  Benno, 
with  vexation;  "  one  man  said  to  another,  '  What  a  pity 
that  that  fellow  has  not  as  much  courage!'  of  course 
meaning  me." 

"Never  mind:  you  are  the  wise  one.  In  the  eyes  of 
thoughtful  people,  your  virtues  shine  bright  when 
placed  in  contrast  with  mine.  Now  let  me  into  your 
confidence.  What  lady  of  the  theatre  do  you  favor 
with  your  attentions,  that  I  may  not  be  in  the  way? 
I  do  not  wish  to  interfere  with  you." 

"  Nothing  of  this  kind  is  permitted  me,"  replied 
Benno. 

"Not  permitted?"  asked  Victor,  astonished;  "what 
kind  of  tyranny  is  this?  Has  it  become  the  fashion 
here  to  be  virtuous?  Then  impart  to  me,  at  least,  what 
other  lady,  from  political  reasons,  may  only  be  admired 
by  me  in  the  distance?" 

"  I  believe  that  you  have  free  choice,"  replied 
Prince  Benno,  depressed. 

"What  a  blessing  for  me  that  I  am  not  Hereditary 
Prince!  But  what  has  occasioned  the  Sovereign  to 
invite  me  here  so  graciously?" 

"We  do  not  know;  Siddy  also  was  surprised." 

"  And  I,  fool,  thought  she  had  a  hand  in  the 
game." 

"  If  she  had  attempted  anything  of  the  kind,  you 
would  assuredly  have  had  no  invitation." 

"That  he  does  not  like  me  is  evident.  I  had  a  cool 
reception." 

"  Perhaps  he  wishes  to  have  you  married." 

"To  whom?"  asked  Victor,  quickly. 

"  He  has  caused  you  to  visit  amongst  our  relations," 
replied  the  Hereditary  Prince,  cautiously. 

"  He?     By  no  means.     I  was  passed  on  from  one 


TWO    NEW    GUESTS.  211 

to  another,  and  everywhere  treated  like  a  nice  boy. 
The  whole  was  clearly  concerted." 

"  Perhaps  one  of  our  great  matchmakers  was  at  the 
bottom  of  it,"  said  the  Hereditary  Prince. 

"Not  in  my  case,  depend  upon  it.  I  am  ill  looked 
upon  by  the  conclave  of  mothers  of  our  country, 
who  have  in  charge  the  feelings  of  our  princely  fam- 
ilies. They  would  not  stir  a  finger  for  me." 

"If  my  father  has  not  done  it,  or  none  of  our  rela- 
tions, the  Lord  High  Steward  must  have  done  it." 

"  Bless  you  for  this  supposition,"  exclaimed  Victor. 
"If  he  wishes  to  have  me  here  then  all  is  right." 

"  Have  you  spoken  to  him?" 

"  I  have  been  with  him;  he  talked  to  me  about  the 
campaign,  and  spoke  in  his  usual  friendly  way,  but 
nothing  more." 

"Then  it  was  he,  you  may  depend  upon  it." 

"  But  why?"  asked  Victor.      What  can  I  do  here?" 

"That  you  must  not  ask  me;  he  favors  me  with 
little  of  his  confidence." 

"  Why  do  you  turn  av/ay  from  the  pavilion  at  every 
bend  in  the  path?"  asked  Victor.  "  Have  you  placed 
steel  traps  there?  By  Jove,  what  a  glorious  face! 
Look,  you  dissembler!  So,  you  are  become  virtuous?" 

The  Hereditary  Prince  colored  with  indignation. 

"  The  lady  up  there  deserves  the  most  considerate 
treatment,"  he  said,  moodily. 

"Then  that  is  the  beautiful  stranger,"  cried  Victor; 
"she  is  reading.  If  she  would  only  turn  a  look  this 
way,  that  one  might  see  more  than  her  profile.  We 
will  go  there:  you  shall  introduce  me." 

"Under  no  circumstances,"  replied  the  Hereditary 
Prince;  "least  of  all  now." 

Victor  looked  at  him  in  astonishment. 


212  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

"  You  refuse  to  present  me  to  this  lady?  I  do  not 
need  it,"  and  he  let  go  his  arm. 

"You  are  mad!"  cried  the  Herditary  Prince,  hold- 
ing him  back. 

"I  was  never  more  in  my  senses,"  rejoined  Victor. 

He  hastened  up  to  a  tree,  the  low  branches  of  which 
nearly  reached  to  the  window,  and  with  the  agility  of 
a  cat  he  climbed  up  to  the  top.  Use  looked  up  and 
perceived  the  Hereditary  Prince,  and  an  officer  climb- 
ing up  a  tree.  She  withdrew  from  the  window.  Vic- 
tor broke  off  a  switch,  and  touched  one  of  the  panes.  A 
bell  rang,  a  window  was  opened,  and  Gabriel  looked  out. 

"  Always  in  the  air,  your  Excellence?"  he  cried  out; 
"what  are  your  Excellence's  commands?" 

"Tender  my  respectful  compliments  to  your  mis- 
tress, and  request  her  to  favor  me  with  a  moment's 
interview  upon  urgent  business." 

Use  appeared,  with  her  usual  serious  countenance, 
at  the  window,  the  servant  behind  her.  The  young 
gentleman  held  on  fast  by  one  hand,  and  raised  the 
other  to  his  cap. 

"I  beg  your  pardon,  Madam,  for  choosing  this  un- 
natural way  of  presenting  myself  to  you,  but  my  cousin 
down  there  has  sent  me  up  here  against  my  will." 

"  If  you  fall,  Sir,  you  may  take  with  you  the  full 
conviction  that  it  was  unnecessary  to  climb  the  tree: 
the  door  of  the  house  is  always  open." 

Use  retreated,  and  Victor  bowed  again. 

"The  lady  is  quite  of  my  opinion,"  he  cried  out, 
reprovingly,  to  the  Hereditary  Prince,  "that  you  have 
done  very  wrong  in  keeping  me  from  the  door." 

"  There  is  no  way  of  getting  out  of  this  scrape  but 
by  going  in  at  once,  and  apologizing,"  replied  the 
Hereditary  Prince. 


TWO    NEW    GUESTS.  213 

"That  is  exactly  what  I  wish,"  cried  Victor.  "One 
must  always  let  people  know  what  they  want." 

The  Princes  entered  the  house  together,  and  Use 
received  them  with  a  silent  curtsy. 

"This  is  the  gentleman,"  began  the  Hereditary 
Prince,  "of  whom,  Mrs.  Werner,  I  have  often  spoken 
to  you.  As  a  boy  he  was  always  called,  by  those'  who 
knew  his  character,  Master  Madcap." 

"Your  Highness  should  not  have  acted  so,"  re- 
turned Use,  sorrowfully;  "  I  am  a  stranger  here,  and 
more  exposed  to  misrepresentation  than  others."  She 
then  turned  to  the  Hereditary  Prince.  "  It  is  the  first 
time  that  I  have  seen  your  Highness  since  your  re- 
covery." 

"I  am  in  danger  of  being  again  banished  from  your 
presence,"  replied  the  Hereditary  Prince,  "  and  it  has 
been  your  wish." 

Use  looked  at  him  surprised. 

"You  have  imparted  to  my  father  the  purport  of  a 
conversation  that  I  once  had  with  you,"  continued  the 
Hereditary  Prince,  in  a  tone  of  vexation.  "You  have 
thus  caused  my  father  to  determine  that  I  shall  be  re- 
moved from  here  into  the  country." 

"I  would  not  on  any  account  that  your  Highness 
should  believe  me  capable  of  betraying  a  confidence. 
If  the  harmless  words  I  spoke  to  your  father  were 
contrary  to  your  wishes,  I  can  only  say,  in  excuse, 
that  they  proceeded  from  the  warmest  interest  in  your 
Highness." 

The  Hereditary  Prince  bowed  silently. 

"This  terzetto  is  composed  of  only  dissonances," 
exclaimed  Victor.  "We  are  all  three  vexed  at  each 
other, — I  most  of  all,  for  my  disobliging  cousin  has  ex- 
posed me  to  the  danger  of  entirely  losing  your  favor, 


214  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

without  having  first  had  the  opportunity  of  winning  it. 
Yet  I  beg  permission  at  some  future  time  to  introduce 
myself  in  a  better  light  than  amongst  the  foliage  of 
the  tree." 

The  Princes  took  leave.  When  they  were  clear  of 
the  house,  Victor  said: 

"  I  would  like  to  get  a  little  straight  in  this  matter  of 
the  Professor's  wife.  I  perceive  now  that  it  is  in  no 
case  advisable  for  me  to  lay  my  homage  openly  at  her 
feet.  Do  not  be  angry  with  me,  Benno, — I  will  spoil 
no  man's  game;  if  you  can  make  use  of  me,  I  am  at 
your  service." 

The  Hereditary  Prince  remained  standing,  and 
looked  so  sorrowfully  at  his  cousin  that  even  he  be- 
came serious. 

"  If  you  would  do  me  a  service  for  which  I  should 
thank  you  as  long  as  I  live,  help  me  to  procure  the 
departure  of  those  that  dwell  in  that  house,  from  this 
country  as  quickly  as  possible.  It  will  bring  them  no 
good  fortune  to  remain  near  us." 

"  Say  it  right  out:  they  will  believe  you  sooner  than 
me." 

"What  reason  shall  I  give?"  asked  the  Hereditary 
Prince.  "  There  is  only  one,  and  I  am  the  last  who 
should  venture  to  express  it." 

"  The  lady  looks  as  if  she  could  take  care  of  her- 
self," said  Victor,  consolingly.  "I  am  more  anxious 
about  you.  I  see  you  are  in  danger  of  being  for  once 
of  the  same  mind  as  your  father.  Will  you  not  at  least 
venture  to  raise  objections  to  his  sending  you  away?" 

"By  what  right?"  asked  the  Hereditary  Prince; 
"he  is  my  father,  Victor,  and  my  sovereign.  I  am  the 
first  of  his  subjects,  and  it  becomes  me  to  be  the  most 
obedient.  So  long  as  he  does  not  command  me  to  do 


TWO    NEW    GUESTS.  215 

anything  which  is  against  my  conscience,  I  am  in  duty 
bound  to  obey  him  at  once.  That  is  the  rule  of  con- 
duct that  I  have  laid  down  for  myself  from  my  own 
convictions." 

"But  let  us  suppose,"  rejoined  Victor,  "that  a 
father  wishes  to  remove  his  son  in  order  to.  devise  mis- 
chief against  another,  in  whom  his  son  takes  an  in- 
terest?" 

"I  still  think  that  the  son  must  go,"  replied  the 
Hereditary  Prince,  "however  hard  it  may  be  for  him; 
for  it  does  not  become  him  to  foster  suspicions  of  his 
father  in  his  soul." 

"More  son  than  Prince!"  cried  Victor;  "and  there 
is  an  end  of  it,  virtuous  Benno.  Ah,  Bergau,  where 
are  you  going?" 

The  Marshall,  whom  he  accosted,  replied,  hastily, 
"To  the  Pavilion,  my  Prince." 

"Have  you  heard  any  details,"  asked  Victor,  mys- 
teriously, "concerning  the  scare  they  have  had  at  the 
castle  of  my  great-uncle?  It  was  about  a  woman,  or 
rather  an  apparition,  which,  in  reality,  was  a  spirit 
that  entered  as  a  spectre,  with  a  great  row;  it  began  as 
a  thundering  noise  and  ended  like  a  funeral  march;  it 
made  the  doors  shake,  and  the  chandeliers  jingle  like 
a  peal  of  bells.  Have  you  heard  nothing  of  it?" 

"Nothing.     What  apparition?     When — and  how?" 

"I  do  not  quite  know,"  replied  Victor;  "but  if  you 
hear  anything  of  it,  I  beg  you  to  let  me  know." 

This  the  Marshal  promised  to  do,  and  hastened 
away. 

The  Marshal  was  blameless  in  his  service;  he  in- 
spected all  the  accounts  conscientiously,  took  care  to 
have  good  wine  in  the  cellar,  and  discharged  the  cere- 
monial details  of  his  office  well.  Besides  this,  he  was 


2l6  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

a  worthy  nobleman,  but  without  any  great  abilities. 
He  was,  therefore,  a  valuable  champion  of  Court;  for 
he  contended,  with  all  the  energy  of  a  fanatic,  for  the 
venerated  customs  of  his  household  against  the  irregular 
pretensions  of  foreign  guests,  and  was  sometimes  made 
use  of  by  the  Sovereign  as  a  battering-ram  to  assault 
a  wall  which  another  would  have  gone  cautiously 
round.  He  now  came  to  Use,  ill-pleased  at  heart 
with  the  commission  which  he  had  been  commanded 
to  carry  out  dexterously.  He  found  the  Professor's 
wife  in  an  unfavorable  mood.  The  boldness  of  Victor, 
and  the  secret  reproach  conveyed  in  the  words  of  the 
Hereditary  Prince,  had  made  her  discontented  with 
herself,  and  suspicious  of  the  uncertain  position  in 
which  she  was  placed.  The  Marshal  long  stirred  the 
bowl  from  which  he  had  to  pour;  he  turned  the  con- 
versation to  Use's  home  and  her  father,  whom  he  had 
once  met  at  a  cattle-show. 

"  It  is  a  fine  estate,  I  hear,  and  has  a  very  high  re- 
putation." 

Use,  taking  pleasure  in  this  praise  of  what  was  dear 
to  her,  entered  unsuspiciously  into  the  conversation, 
and  told  him  of  the  neighboring  farms  and  their 
owners. 

At  last  the  Marshal  began: 

"Your  father  is  worthy  of  every  distinction;  pardon 
me,  therefore,  if  I  put  one  question:  Has  your  father 
ever  had  the  wish  to  be  ennobled?" 

"No,"  replied  Use,  staring  at  the  Marshal  with 
astonishment;  "why  should  he  have  such  a  wish?" 

"1  refrain  from  all  observations  upon  the  favorable 
effect  which  such  an  elevation  would  have  upon  the 
career  of  your  brothers  and  sisters;  that  is  obvious. 
One  can  easily  conceive  that  modesty  and  pride  may 


TWO    NEW    GUESTS.  217 

« 

hinder  a  man  from  seeking  these  advantages.  But  I 
am  convinced  that  his  Highness  the  Sovereign,  even 
for  his  own  interest,  would  be  glad  to  confer  such  a 
favor;  for  the  position  of  your  father,  with  respect  to 
my  gracious  master,  would  thereby  become  much  more 
satisfactory." 

"It  is  very  satisfactory  as  it  is,"  said  Use. 

"Considering  the  personal  relations  into  which  you 
have  entered  with  our  Court,  I  may  venture  to  speak 
openly  to  you,"  continued  the  Marshal,  with  more  con- 
fidence. "  It  would  be  very  desirable  for  his  princely 
Highness,  and  for  us  all,  if,  on  the  occasions  of  his 
Highness's  accidental  presence  in  your  country,  he 
could  find  a  house  in  which  he  might  receive  hospi- 
tality." 

Use  interrupted  him  in  great  astonishment.  "  I 
beg  of  you,  Mr.  Von  Bergau,  to  explain  yourself  more 
clearly,  for  I  do  not  understand  this  matter  at  all. 
The  Sovereign  has  already  honored  our  house  several 
times  with  his  presence." 

The  Marshal  shrugged  his  shoulders.  "  In  cases 
of  necessity,  the  friendly  offer  of  your  father  has  been 
accepted,  but  it  has  always  been  for  a  short  time,  and 
that  incidentally;  for  even  if  your  father,  in  his  official 
position,  was  not  at  all  unfitted  for  this  honor,  yet 
there  was  no  lady  who  could  do  the  honors  of  the 
house." 

"  I  performed  the  duties  of  that  position  as  well  as 
I  could." 

The  Marshal  bowed.  "There  was  much  discussion 
as  to  how  the  breakfast  should  be  arranged  without 
affronting  the  ladies  of  the  house,  and  it  was  very  wel- 
come when  your  father  entirely  refrained  from  requir- 
ing the  participation  of  his  ladies.  Allow  me  also  to 


2l8  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

••» 

add,  that  a  rise  in  your  father's  position  would  be 
desirable  for  yourself.  For  your  husband,  as  a  learned 
man  of  distinguished  merit,  is  in  the  position  of  ob- 
taining, on  expressing  a  wish,  a  rank  and  position 
which  would  establish  him  as  a  member  of  the  Court. 
And  if  this  proposal  should  be  carried  into  effect,  it 
would  give  you,  under  certain  limitations,  an  entrance 
there  also.  It  would  give  the  Sovereign  and  Princess 
an  opportunity  of  receiving  you  at  the  castle,  and  in- 
vitations to  great  Court  balls  and  concerts  would  be 
possible." 

Use  rose.  "Enough,  my  lord,  I  understand  you. 
I  know  what  my  father  will  do  when  you  offer  him 
that  of  which  you  speak;  he  will  laugh  and  reject  the 
offer,  and  will  say,  if  our  citizen's  home  is  not  good 
enough  for  our  Sovereign  to  enter,  we  must  resign  the 
honor.  But  I  cannot  reject  it  with  the  composure 
which  I  expect  of  my  father;  and  I  must  tell  you,  my 
lord,  that  if  I  had  had  any  idea  that  I,  as  a  lady,  was 
not  entitled  to  enter  this  society,  I  would  never  have 
set  foot  here." 

Use,  with  difficulty,  controlled  the  indignation  which 
worked  within  her.  The  Marshal  was  confounded, 
and  endeavoured  to  pass  it  off  equivocally;  but  Use 
could  not  be  dealt  with;  she  continued  standing,  and 
so  compelled 'him  to  depart. 

The  Professor  found  his  wife  in  a  dark  room  brood- 
ing over  what  had  passed.  "Will  you  have  a  patent 
of  nobility?"  she  exclaimed,  springing  up;  "it  will  be 
prepared  for  you  at  once,  and  for  my  father  also,  in 
order  that  we  may  all  have  the  advantages  of  becom- 
ing fit  society  for  the  castle  without  their  feeling  it  a 
humiliation.  It  is  unsatisfactory  to  them  only  to  see 
us  occasionally.  I  know  now  why  I  dine  alone,  and 


TWO    NEW    GUESTS.  2IQ 

why  the  Sovereign  would  not  enter  our  sitting-room  at 
Bielstein.  We  must  have  a  new  name,  that  we  may 
obtain  the  education  and  the  manners  which  will  make 
us  worthy  of  going  to  Court.  And  not  only  us,  but 
perhaps  our  children.  Can  you  hear  this  without 
coloring  with  shame  at  our  being  here  ?  They  feed  us 
like  strange  beasts,  which  they  have  procured  out  of 
curiosity  and  will  again  cast  us  out  of  the  pen." 

"Why,  Use!"  cried  Felix,  in  astonishment,  "you 
are  expending  more  pathos  than  is  necessary.  What 
do  the  prejudices  of  these  men  signify  to  us?  Has  not 
the  Sovereign  done  everything  to  make  our  residence 
here  agreeable,  according  to  what  we  are  accustomed?  If 
the  people  here  are  obliged  by  the  customs  in  which 
they  have  been  brought  up,  and  by  the  regulations  of 
.their  circle,  to  limit  their  intercourse  with  us  to  certain 
definite  forms,  what  does  that  signify?  Do  we  wish 
to  become  their  confidants,  and  to  live  with  them  as 
we  do  with  our  friends  at  home?  They  have  not  de- 
served such  an  unfolding  of  our  souls.  When  we 
came  here  we  entered  into  a  simple  business  relation, 
and  we  undertook  also  the  obligation  of  adapting  our- 
selves to  their  rules  of  life." 

"And  we  are  free  to  leave  here  as  soon  as  these 
rules  no  longer  please  us?" 

"Just  so,"  answered  the  Professor;  "as  soon  as  we 
have  sufficient  grounds  for  considering  them  unbear- 
able. I  think  that  is  not  the  case.  They  require  noth- 
ing of  us  that  is  degrading:  they  show  us  the  most  as- 
siduous attention:  what  does  it  signify  if  we  do  not 
take  part  in  their  daily  intercourse,  which  we  have  no 
right  or  reason  to  desire?" 

"  Do  not  let  us  deceive  ourselves,"  exclaimed  Use. 
"If  in  our  city  any  one  was  to  say  to  you,  you  may 


22O  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

only  look  at  my  shoes,  but  not  raise  your  eyes  to  my 
face;  you  may  only  go  out  with  me  into  the  open  air, 
but  not  come  into  my  house;  I  can  eat  with  you  stand- 
ing, but  not  sit  down  at  your  table,  as  my  dignity  for- 
bids me  to  do  so, — what  would  you,  who  live  so 
proudly  in  your  circle,  reply  to  such  a  fool?" 

"I  would  endeavour  to  learn  the  reason  of  his  nar- 
row-mindedness,—  perhaps  pity  him — perhaps  turn 
away  from  him." 

"Then  do  so  here,"  cried  Use.  "For  we  are  in- 
vited guests  to  whom  the  people  of  the  house  close 
their  doors." 

"  I  repeat  to  you  that  we  are  not  guests  who  are 
invited  to  associate  with  the  people  here.  I  have 
been  called  upon  for  work,  and  I  have  accepted  this 
call,  because  I  look  for  such  great  advantage  in  it  to. 
my  branch  of  learning  that  I  would  bear  far  worse 
things  than  the  disagreeable  customs  of  the  Court. 
I  dare  not  set  at  stake  these  important  interests  by  an 
opposition  to  social  pretensions  which  do  not  please 
me.  It  is  just  because  I  have  no  particular  respect 
for  these  rules  that  they  do  not  disturb  me." 

"  But  it  grieves  and  makes  one  angry  that  people, 
in  whose  life  one  takes  an  interest,  cling  to  such  miser- 
able antiquated  triflings,"  said  Use  still  bitterly. 

"So  that  is  it?  "asked  Felix.  "We  are  anxious 
about  the  souls  of  the  grandees?  There  is  something 
to  be  said  on  that  point.  There  is  an  old  curse  on 
every  privilege  which  falls  to  the  lot  of  most  who 
share  in  it.  This  may  be  the  case  with  court  privi- 
leges. The  life  of  our  princes  lies  confined  within 
the  boundaries  of  a  small  circle;  the  views  and  pre- 
judices of  those  around  them,  whom  they  are  not  free 
to  choose,  hedge  them  in  from  the  first  day  of  their 


TWO    NEW    GUESTS.  221 

life  until  the  last.  That  they  are  not  stronger  and 
freer  arises  for  the  most  part  from  the  confined  atmos- 
phere in  which  they  are  kept  by  etiquette.  It  is  a  mis- 
fortune, not  only  for  themselves,  but  for  us,  that  our 
princes  look  upon  the  society  that  is  not  noble  with 
the  eyes  of  a  deputy  chamberlain  or  a  courtier.  This 
evil  one  feels  painfully  when  one  comes  into  contact 
with  them.  I  think,  undoubte'dly,  that  the  struggle 
which  is  going  on  in  different  parts  of  our  fatherland 
will  not  come  to  a  good  conclusion,  until  the  dangers 
are  removed  which  arise  from  the  effect  of  the  old 
Court  regulations  on  the  training  of  our  princes.  But 
it  appears  to  me  they  are  already  broken  through  in 
many  places,  and  the  time  may  come  when  all  this 
nonsense  will  be  the  subject  of  good-humored  satire. 
For  this  etiquette  of  Court  is,  after  all,  only  the  re- 
mains of  a  past  age,  like  the  constitutions  of  our  guilds, 
and  other  ancient  customs.  So  far  you  are  right.  But 
those  who  indulge  in  personal  irritation,  as  you  do 
now,  expose  themselves  to  the  suspicion  that  they  are 
only  angry  because  they  themselves  desire  entrance 
into  the  prohibited  circles." 

Use  looked  silently  down. 

"  When  you  and  I,"  continued  the  Professor,  "  come 
accidentally  into  personal  contact  with  such  modes 
of  thinking,  there  is  only  one  thing  that  befits  us 
—cool  contempt  and  indifference.  We  wish,  for 
the  sake  of  our  princes,  to  remove  the  impediments 
which  limit  their  intercourse  with  their  people; 
but  we  have  no  wish  or  impulse  to  put  ourselves 
in  the  place  of  those  who  apparently  direct  the  rulers 
of  our  country.  For,  between  ourselves,  we,  who 
pass  our  lives  in  strenuous  mental  labor,  would  in 
general  be  bad  companions  for  princes.  We  are 


222  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

deficient  in  the  graceful  forms  and  tact,  and  the  easy 
complaisance  of  society.  The  stronger  minds  would 
hurt,  by  their  independence,  and  the  weaker  would 
become  contemptible  by  abject  subservience.  Free- 
dom of  choice  is  all  that  we  wish  for  our  rulers.  One 
feeling  we  may  preserve  without  arrogance — all  who 
separate  themselves  from  our  circle  lose  more  than 
we  do." 

Use  approached  him,  and  laid  her  hand  in  his. 

"Therefore,  Lady  Use,"  continued  her  husband, 
cheerfully,  "be  contented  for  these  few  weeks.  If  it 
should  happen  to  you  in  reality  to  be  an  invited  guest 
of  the  Court,  then  you  may  enter  into  negotiations 
concerning  your  pretensions;  and  if  in  such  a  case  you 
have  to  take  exceptions,  do  it  with  a  smile." 

"Do  you  speak  so  from  the  calm  confidence  of 
your  soul,"  asked  Use,  looking  searchingly  at  her  hus- 
band, "or  because  you  have  it  much  at  heart  to  remain 
here?" 

"I  have  my  manuscript  much  at  heart,"  replied  the 
Professor;  "  for  the  rest,  the  loss  of  peace  is  a  greater 
deprivation  to  me  than  to  you.  You  have  from  your 
youth,  and  especially  this  last  year,  taken  a  warm  inter- 
est in  the  inmates  of  this  princely  castle.  You  have 
at  times  felt  yourself  much  interested  in  them,  and  it 
is  on  that  account  that  you  are  more  wounded  than 
needful." 

Use  nodded  her  head  assentingly. 

"Bear  with  it,  Use,"  continued  her  husband,  en- 
couragingly; "remember  that  you  are  free,  and  may 
any  day  leave  it.  But  it  would  be  more  agreeable  to 
me  if  you  did  not  leave  me  alone." 

"Would  that  be  more  agreeable  to  you?"  asked 
Use,  softly. 


TWO    NEW    GUESTS.  223 

"You  little  fool!"  exclaimed  the  Professor.  "To- 
day we  will  give  up  the  theatre,  and  have  our  evening 
reading.  I  have  brought  with  me  what  will  drive 
away  all  vexations." 

He  brought  the  lamp  to  the  table,  opened  a  little 
book,  and  began: 

"  It  happened,  one  Whitsuntide,  that  Nobel,  the 
King  of  all  the  Beasts,  held  a  Court,"  and  so  on. 

Use  sat  with  her  work  in  her  hand  by  her  husband; 
the  Ibht  of  the  lamp  fell  on  his  countenance,  which 
she  examined  searchingly,  in  order  to  read  therein 
whether  he  still  felt  towards  her  as  before;  till  at  last 
the  iniquities  of  the  fox  brought  a  smile  to  her  lips, 
and  she  took  the  book  from  him,  and  read  on  quietly 
and  comfortably,  as  at  home. 

"How  is  the  Lady  Bergau?"  asked  the  Princess,  of 
her  attendant,  the  little  Gotlinde  Thurn. 

"Very  ill,  your  Highness.  She  has  been  much  dis- 
turbed by  the  sudden  departure  of  her  husband,  and 
her  confinement  is  expected  every  hour." 

"Bergau  gone  away?"  asked  the  Princess,  in  as- 
tonishment. 

"The  Sovereign  has  commissioned  him  to  purchase 
some  porcelain  curiosities  in  a  distant  city." 

The  Princess  looked  significantly  at  her  confidant. 

"Forgive  me,  your  Highness,  if  I  venture  to  say," 
continued  the  lady-in-waiting,  "that  we  are  all  indig- 
nant. Bergau,  it  is  said,  had  a  scene  yesterday  with 
the  strange  lady  at  the  Pavilion;  and  this  morning 
early  the  Sovereign  expressed  himself,  in  giving  his 
orders,  in  a  way  that  made  any  objection  out  of  the 
question." 

"What  has  happened  at  the  Pavilion?"  asked  the 
Princess. 


224  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

"That  is  not  known,"  replied  the  angry  lady;  "but, 
from  some  expressions  of  Bergau,  one  may  conclude 
that  the  stranger  has  raised  pretensions,  demanded 
an  introduction  at  Court,  and  threatened  to  leave  in 
the  event  of  a  refusal.  The  arrogance  of  the  woman 
is  unbearable.  We  all  beg  that  your  Highness  will 
be  gracious  enough  to  maintain  our  rights." 

"Good  Linda,-  I  am  a  dangerous  ally  for  you," 
replied  the  Princess,  sorrowfully. 

The  birthday  of  the  Princess  was  kept  both  by  the 
Court  and  city.  Many  people  wore  gala  dresses; 
numbers  pressed  with  their  congratulations  into  the 
ante-chamber  of  the  princely  daughter.  The  Princess 
received  in  full  dress  on  this  day.  She  appeared  for 
the  first  time  out  of  mourning,  and  looked  lovlier  than 
ever.  In  a  side  room,  the  door  of  which  was  open, 
stood  the  tables,  which  were  covered  with  presents. 
Much  were  the  splendid  dresses  which  the  Sovereign 
had  ordered  for  his  daughter  admired  by  the  ladies; 
and  scarcely  less  so  the  beautiful  miniature  work  of 
the  Magister  by  the  connoisseurs. 

About  three  o'clock  the  concert  began  in  the  gar- 
dens of  the  castle.  Gentlemen  and  ladies  of  the 
nobility,  the  officials,  and  citizens,  entered  the  space 
marked  out  for  them.  The  numerous  attendants  of  the 
Princess  greeted  the  ladies  of  the  company  and  ar- 
ranged them  in  a  large  circle,  behind  which  were  the 
gentlemen,  forming  a  dark  setting;  on  one  side  the 
families  of  the  Court,  on  the  other  those  of  the  city. 
The  guests  accommodated  themselves  easily  to  the 
compulsory  mathematical  line;  it  was  only  on  the  city 
side  that  there  was  any  irregularity.  The  new  city 
councillor  Gottlieb,  a  distinguished  butcher,  pushed 
in  from  behind  his  wife  and  daughter,  and  placed  him- 


TWO    NEW    GUESTS.  225 

self  squarely  in  the  front  row;  and  it  required  the  pos- 
itive directions  of  the  lady-in-waiting  to  make  him  re- 
treat to  his  place. 

"I  pay  the  taxes,"  said  Gottlieb,  stubbornly,  to 
those  about  him;  but  even  from  his  neighbors  he  was 
the  object  of  a  disapproving  smile. 

When  Use  entered  this  society  of  strangers  with 
her  husband,  she  felt  alarm  at  the  cold,  inquisitive 
looks  directed  at  her  from  all  sides.  The  Chamber- 
lain conducted  her  to  the  first  lady-in-waiting.  The 
Baroness  bowed  in  cool  acknowledgment,  and  pointed 
to  the  place  where  she  was  to  be  stationed — at  the 
end  of  the  Court  side,  opposite  the  entrance.  The 
royal  party,  preceded  by  the  Marshals,  made  their 
appearance  punctually;  the  Princess,  radiant  and  smil- 
ing, on  the  arm  of  the  Sovereign;  the  young  Princes 
behind.  The  ladies'  dresses  rustled  like  a  forest  of 
trees,  as  they  bent  in  deferential  salutation;  behind 
them  the  heads  of  the  assembled  gentlemen  dropped 
with  solemn  movement.  The  Princess  executed  a  cir- 
cular bow — a  consummate  piece  of  Court  technique — 
and  proceeded  to  walk  about  the  line.  The  sun 
shone  with  summer  warmth,  and  all  rejoiced  in  the 
beautiful  day  and  in  the  happiness  of  the  child  whose 
birthday  was  now  celebrated.  The  Princess  looked 
enchantingly  lovely,  and  showed,  by  her  noble  ap- 
pearance and  gracious  manners,  how  well  fitted  she 
was  to  do  the  honors  of  a  Court.  The  ladies-in-wait- 
ing preceded  her,  beckoning  to  individuals  to  come 
forward,  and  mentioning  the  names  of  those  who  were 
strangers  to  the  Princess.  She  had  a  kind  word  for 
every  one,  or  a  nod  and  sweet  smile,  which  made  all 
feel  that  they  were  the  object  of  her  attention.  The 


226  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

Sovereign,  to-day,  appeared  among  his  citizens  with 
the  self-possession  of  a  family  father. 

"A  large  number  of  old  friends  and  acquaintances," 
he  remarked,  to  the  head  Burgomaster.  "  I  knew 
that  this  would  be  quite  after  my  daughter's  own 
heart.  It  is  the- first  time  since  her  severe  trial  that 
she  has  had  the  opportunity  to  meet  again  so  many 
that  have  taken  a  friendly  interest  in  her  life." 

But  none  of  the  ladies  there  looked  with  such 
eager  attention  on  the  circle  of  the  Princess  as  Use. 
She  forgot  her  anger  at  the  prejudices  of  class,  and 
the  annoyances  attendant  on  her  solitary  position 
among  these  strangers,  and  looked  unceasingly  at  the 
young  Princess.  Like  all  present,  she  felt  the  charm 
of  her  gracious  manner.  This  facility  of  giving  pleas- 
ure to  others  in  a  few  minutes  by  merely  a  look  or 
word,  was  quite  new  to  her.  She  looked  back  anx- 
iously at  Felix,  who  was  watching  the  graceful  move- 
ments of  the  Princess  with  pleasure.  She  came  near, 
and  Use  heard  her  questions  and  answers  to  the  for- 
tunate ones  with  whom  she  was  more  familiar.  Use 
saw  that  the  Princess  cast  a  fleeting  glance  at  her,  and 
that  her  expression  became  more  serious.  The  Prin- 
cess had  lingered  with  a  lady  who  stood  in  front  of 
Use,  inquiring  with  interest  after  the  health  of  her 
sick  mother;  she  now  passed  slowly  by  Use,  bowing 
her  head  almost  imperceptibly,  and  said,  in  a  low  voice, 
"I  hear  you  intend  to  leave  us." 

The  unexpected  question,  and  coldness  of  the  tone 
and  look,  aroused  the  pride  of  the  Professor's  wife, 
and,  under  the  flash  of  her  large  eyes,  the  Princess 
also  became  more  erect,  and  they  exchanged  a  mutual 
glance  of  hostility,  as  Use  answered: 


TWO    NEW    GUESTS.  227 

"Your  Highness  will  pardon  me!  I  shall  remain 
with  my  husband." 

The  Princess  looked  at  the  Professor:  again  a  pleas- 
ant smile  passed  over  her  face,  and  she  continued  her 
progress.  Use  also  turned  quickly  toward  her  husband, 
but  he  was  looking  about  innocently,  and,  pleased  with 
the  world,  he  had  not  observed  the  little  scene. 

The  Sovereign,  however,  had;  for  he  stepped  right 
across  the  space  to  Use,  and  began: 

"Among  old  acquaintances  we  also  greet  our  new 
ones.  Not  that  this  expression  is  applicable  in  your 
case  to  me  and  the  Hereditary  Prince;  for  we  owe 
thanks  to  you  for  the  hospitality  of  your  home;  and 
we  rejoice  to  show  you  to-day  the  circle  in  which  we 
live.  I  lament  that  your  father  is  not  among  us.  1 
cherish  the  greatest  respect  for  the  useful  activity  of 
his  life;  and  I  know  how  to  value  all  his  services  to 
agriculture.  He  has  obtained  a  prize  at  the  Agricul- 
tural Exhibition;  pray  convey  my  congratulations  to 
him.  I  hope  his  example  will  be  followed  throughout 
the  country." 

The  Sovereign  well  understood  how  to  make  up 
for  the  neglect  of  his  Court  to  Use.  A  Professor's 
wife  has  many  objections  to  Court  usages  and  high 
rank;  but  when  well-deserved  praise  is  accorded  by 
princely  lips,  before  a  distinguished  assembly,  to  those 
she  loves,  it  affords  her  the  greatest  pleasure.  After 
the  annoying  question  of  the  daughter,  the  striking 
attention  of  the  father  was  a  great  satisfaction.  Use 
gave  the  Sovereign  a  look  of  deep  thankfulness, 
and  he  now  turned  kindly  to  her  Felix,  and  re- 
mained long  talking  with  him.  When  at  last  he  went 
on  to  others,  the  uncommon  consideration  he  had 
shown  the  strangers  before  the  assembled  company 


228  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

had  the  usual  result;  the  gentlemen  of  the  Co.urt  now 
thronged  round  Use  and  the  Professor,  to  show  atten- 
tion also  on  their  part.  Use  now  looked  about  her 
with  more  composure,  and  observed  how  slowly  the 
Hereditary  Prince  passed  along  the  circle,  singling  out 
gentlemen  and  ladies  according  to  a  secret  systematic 
rule,  and  at  the  same  time  stopping  occasionally  and 
moving  his  eye-glass,  as  if  he  were  taking  something 
into  consideration.  Prince  Victor,  on  the  other  hand, 
pursued  a  thoroughly  irregular  course,  like  a  comet, 
whose  points  could  only  be  determined  by  looking  out 
for  jthe  fairest  faces.  He  had  talked  long  with  the 
daughter  of  the  city  councillor,  Gottlieb,  and  had  made 
the  young  lady  laugh  so  much  that  she  was  alarmed  at 
herself,  colored,  and  held  her  handkerchief  before  her 
mouth.  He  then  suddenly  approached  Use. 

"A  horticultural  exhibition  like  this  is  exceedingly 
entertaining,"  he  began,  carelessly,  as  if  speaking  to 
an  old  acquaintance.  "Yet,  after  all,  there  are  many 
thorny  cactuses  to  be  handled." 

"It  must  be  very  wearisome  for  the  princely  party, 
who  have  to  speak  to  so  many,"  said  Use. 

"Do  not  imagine  that,"  replied  Victor.  "It  is 
pleasant  to  see  so  many  people  before  one,  who  dare 
not  open  their  mouths  unless  told  to;  princely  blood 
will  bear  still  greater  fatigues  for  that  enjoyment." 

The  company  were  set  in  motion.  The  Sovereign 
offering  his  arm  to  the  Princess,  led  her  into  a  great, 
richly  decorated  tent.  The  guests  followed,  and  a 
host  of  lackeys  offered  refreshments.  After  that  the 
ladies  seated  themselves  behind  the  royal  family;  the 
gentlemen  standing  round.  The  concert  began  with  a 
majestic  flourish  of  the  kettledrums;  and,  after  a  short 
time,  ended  with  a  furious  onslaught  of  fiddles.  The 


TWO    NEW    GUESTS.  22Q 

Princess  now  noticed  some  of  the  gentlemen,  but  with 
less  regularity  than  the  ladies.  Use  was  engaged  in 
conversation  with  Miss  von  Lossau,  but  the  Princess 
walked  to  where  Felix  Werner  was  standing  and  asked 
eager  questions.  The  Professor  became  animated, 
and  explained;  the  Princess  asked  more,  laughed,  and 
answered.  The  officious  Lord  High  Steward  glanced 
at  the  clock.  It  was  high  time  for  the  ladies  of  the 
Court  to  dress  for  dinner,  but  the  Sovereign  nodded  to 
him,  looked  contentedly  at  the  Princess,  and,  in  the 
best  of  humor  said  to  his  son:  "To-day  she  reigns; 
we  will  willingly  wait." 

"My  dear  Highness  forgets  us  all,  she  is  so  engros- 
sed with  the  stranger,"  whispered  Miss  von  Thurn,  to 
Prince  Victor. 

"Calm  your  faithful  heart,  Dame  Gotlinde,"  said 
Victor.  "  Our  Lady  Bradamante  has  not  used  her 
conquering  weapons  for  a  whole  year.  She  would  try 
her  powers  to-day  even  upon  a  cabbage-head." 

The  following  morning  the  Princess  sat  among  her 
ladies,  and  they  talked,  as  usual,  of  the  previous  day, 
admired  the  Princess,  condemned  a  little  those  who 
were  absent,  and  expressed  astonishment  at  the  toilet 
and  manner  of  several  city  ladies. 

"But  your  Highness  did  not  speak  to  the  wife  of 
the  City  Treasurer."  exclaimed  Gotlinde  Thurn;  "the 
poor  woman  took  it  as  a  slight,  and  cried  after  the 
concert." 

"Where  was  she  standing?"  asked  the  Princess. 

"Near  the  stranger,"  answered  Gotlinde. 

"Ah,  it  was  on  that  account,"  said  the  Princess. 
"What  is  she  like?" 

"A   round   little  woman,  with  brown  eyes  and  red 


230  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

cheeks.  My  brother  lodges  in  her  house;  that  is  how 
I  know  her.  She  makes  admirable  tarts." 

"Make  up  for  it  to  her,  Linda,"  said  the  Princess; 
"say  something  kind  to  her  for  me." 

"  May  I  tell  her  that  your  Highness  has  heard  of 
her  excellent  cherry-brandy,  and  would  be  glad  to  have 
a  few  bottles  of  it?  That  would  make  her  more  than 
happy." 

The  Princess  nodded. 

"The  daughter  of  the  City  Councillor  Gottlieb,"  said 
the  Baroness  Hallstein,  "has  become  quite  a  belle." 

"  Prince  Victor  forgot  everybody  in  his  attentions 
to  her,"  exclaimed  Miss  Lossau,  with  vexation. 

"You  may  congratulate  yourself,  dear  Betty,"  re- 
plied the  Princess,  sharply,  "  if  you  are  forgotten  by 
my  cousin.  The  attentions  of  the  Prince  are  gener- 
ally a  source  of  alarm  for  the  ladies  who  are  favored 
with  them." 

"But  we  are  all  grateful  to  you,"  exclaimed  Bar- 
oness Hallstein,  a  lady  of  spirit  and  character,  "  for 
having  supported  the  Court  in  opposition  to  the  lady 
from  the  Pavilion.  Your  cool  remark  gave  general 
pleasure." 

"  Do  you  think  so,  Wally?"  said  the  Princess, 
thoughtfully.  "  The  woman  is  proud,  and  was  defiant. 
But  I  had  wounded  her  first,  and  on  a  day  when  I  had 
the  advantage." 

CHAPTER  XXX. 
VEXATIONS. 

The  year  began  well  in  every  respect.  Woodcock 
and  snipe  had  betaken  themselves  to  their  homes  be- 
fore the  sportsmen  had  donned  their  boots,  and  the 
March-daffodils  had  really  bloomed  in  March.  The 


VEXATIONS.  231 

moon,  between  its  first  and  last  quarter,  smiled  every 
evening  with  wry,  distorted  mouth.  At  Court  the 
Princess  had  turned  her  mind  to  search  after  lost  manu- 
scripts with  the  Professor,  and  in  the  city  an  uncommon 
inclination  to  quaff  the  punch  of  the  fragrant  woodruff- 
plant  was  perceptible  among  the  citizens  and  tempted 
them  to  daring  undertakings.  Even  quiet  heads  were 
infected  by  the  intoxication  of  the  season;  straw  and 
paper  ruled  supreme.  All  the  world  wore  not  only 
hats  but  also  caps  of  straw;  all  the  world  occupied 
themselves  with  speculations  and  new  investments. 
The  house  of  Hahn  was  in  the  ascendant.  The  orders 
were  so  numerous  that  they  could  not  be  executed. 
In  all  the  corners  of  the  house  sat  girls,  sewing  straw 
plaits  together;  the  smell  of  the  brimstone  in  the 
street  and  neighboring  gardens  was  insupportable.  In 
the  svenings  Mr.  Hummel  sat  on  his  upturned  boat, 
like  Napoleon  at  St.  Helena,  a  vanquished  man.  With 
angry  contempt  he  regarded  the  tumult  of  humanity. 
Repeatedly  did  his  acquaintances  call  upon  him  to 
launch  into  the  great  activity  of  the  time,  to  become  a 
member  of  some  stock-company,  to  found  a  bank,  dig 
for  coal,  or  smelt  iron.  He  rejected  all  these  propos- 
als. When  he  went  into  his  idle  workshops,  where 
he  was  only  occupied  in  a  struggle  with  moths,  his 
book-keeper  ventured  to  make  a  remark  as  to  the  pos- 
sible future  fashions  in  Parisian  hats;  he  laughed  de- 
moniacally and  replied: 

"I  cannot  indulge  in  any  speculation  as  to  the  cov- 
ering that  people  will  require  when  these  wild  projects 
cease;  but  if  you  wish  to  know  what  will  be  the  next 
fashion,  I  will  inform  you.  People  will  wear  pitch- 
caps.  I  wonder  that  you  are  still  at  your  desk.  Why 


232  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

do  you  not  do  like  others  of  your  colleagues,  who  spend 
their  time  in  wine-shops?" 

"Mr.  Hummel,  my  means  do  not  allow  of  that," 
replied  the  depressed  man. 

"Your  means!"  cried  Hummel;  "who  asks  after 
that  now?  Lucifer-matches  are  as  good  as  ready 
money.  The  street-porters  discount  bills  and  give 
one  another  their  likenesses.  Why  do  you  not  live 
like  the  book-keeper  Knips  over  there?  When  I 
bought  an  orange  for  my  wife  of  the  Italian,  I  saw  him 
sitting  in  the  back  room  with  a  bottle  of  iced  cham- 
pagne. Why  should  you  not  put  yourself  on  ice  in 
this  hot  weather?  These  are  nothing  but  ruinous, 
hare-brained  projects;  it  is  a  Sodom  and  Gomorrah; 
the  straw  fire  burns,  but  it  will  come  to  a  frightful 
end." 

Mr.  Hummel  closed  his  office  and  walked  in  the 
twilight  into  the  park,  where  he  wandered  up  and 
down  on  the  frontiers  of  his  territory  like  a  spirit. 
He  was  awakened  from  his  meditations  by  the  wild 
barking  of  his  brindle  favorite,  who  rushed  up  to  a 
bench  in  a  shady  part  of  the  park,  and  savagely  seized 
the  boots  and  trousers  of  a  man  sitting  there.  Hum- 
mel approached  nearer;  a  small  man  and  a  young  wo- 
man hastily  separated.  Hummel  was  sufficiently  man 
of  the  world  not  to  let  himself  be  seen,  and  he  has- 
tened back  to  his  garden  and  continued  his  walk  in 
wild  strides. 

"  I  knew  it;  I  always  said  so;  I  have  given  a 
warning  all  along.  Poor  devil!" 

Then  he  walked  angrily  towards  the  great  beech- 
tree  on  his  own  premises  and  forgot  the  supper  hour, 
so  that  his  wife  had  to  call  him  twice  from  the  garden 
When  he  was  sitting  at  table  also  he  looked  as  dark  as 


VEXATIONS.  233 

a  thunder-cloud,  and  expressed  such  a  deep  contempt 
for  human  nature  that  the  ladies  soon  became  silent. 
Laura  made  another  effort  to  lead  the  conversation  to 
the  wife  of  the  Burgomaster,  who  had  shown  great  re- 
spect for  Hummel  whenever  she  passed  by,  but  he 
broke  out  with  the  terrible  words: 

"She  is  no  better  than  the  rest  of  womankind." 

"That  is  enough,  Hummel,"  exclaimed  his  wife; 
"this  conduct  is  very  unpleasant,  and  I  must  beg  of 
you  not  to  indulge  so  far  in  your  ill-temper  as  to  let  i't 
deprive  you  of  a  proper  judgment  of  the  worth  of 
women.  I  can  forgive  much,  but  never  an  insult  to 
the  nobleness  of  human  nature." 

"Away  with  you  and  your  noble  human  nature," 
replied  Hummel,  rising  from  the  table,  and  pushing 
back  his  chair;  he  then  rushed  vehemently  into  the 
next  room,  where,  in  the  dusk,  he  continued  pacing 
angrily  to  and  fro,  for  he  was  much  disturbed  about 
Gabriel.  Certainly  the  social  position  of  this  man  was 
not  exalted;  he  was  not  a  relation,  not  a  householder, 
not  even  a  citizen.  Accordingly,  Mr.  Hummel  revolved 
in  his  mind  whether  an  interference  in  the  secret  feel- 
ings of  this  man  became  him.  He  did  not  come 
to  a  decision  without  a  struggle,  but  he  could  not  si- 
lence the  voice  which  sounded  in  the  corner  of  his 
heart  in  favor  of  Gabriel. 

Meanwhile,  the  ladies  were  sitting  at  their  dis- 
turbed repast.  Laura  looked  down  gloomily;  such 
scenes  were  not  new  to  her,  and  they  became  more 
painful.  The  mother  was  in  great  consternation  at 
this  anger  against  the  world  of  femininity,  and  sank  be- 
neath the  waves  of  stormy  thoughts.  At  last  she  came 
to  the  conviction  that  Hummel  was  jealous.  That  was 
very  ludicrous,  and  there  certainly  was  no  cause  for 


234  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

such  a  feeling,  but  the  vagaries  of  men  were  incalcu- 
lable. The  comic  actor  had  come  the  day  before  at 
her  invitation,  and  he  had  been  very  entertaining;  he 
had  enjoyed  the  wine  and  dinner,  and  on  taking  leave 
had  kissed  her  hand  with  a  true  theatrical  expression. 
Was  it  possible  that  this  expression  had  produced  the 
mischief?  Mrs.  Hummel  began  to  pace  up  and  down, 
looking  in  the  mirror  in  passing  by,  and  determined, 
like  a  valiant  housewife,  to  hold  forth  to  her  husband 
this  very  evening  on  his  folly. 

"  Go  up  stairs  Laura,"  she  said,  softly,  to  her 
daughter,  "I  wish  to  speak  to  your  father  alone." 

Laura  silently  took  the  candle  and  carried  it  to  her 
private  table.  She  placed  herself  at  the  window  and 
looked  toward  the  neighbor's  house,  where  the  Doc- 
tor's lamp  still  glimmered  through  the  curtains.  She 
wrung  her  hands,  and  exclaimed: 

"Away,  away  from  here;  that  is  the  only  way  to 
save  myself  and  him." 

Meanwhile,  Mrs.  Hummel  had  the  supper  removed, 
and,  mustering  courage  for  the  impending  encounter, 
at  last  entered  the  room  in  which  Mr.  Hummel  was 
still  blustering  about. 

"  Henry,"  she  began  solemnly,  "are  you  yet  in  a 
state  of  mind  to  consider  calmly  the  circumstances 
which  have  robbed  you  of  all  composure?" 

"No,"  cried  Hummel,  throwing  a  boot  at  the  door. 

"I  know  the  cause  of  your  anger,"  continued  Mrs. 
Hummel,  looking  modestly  down.  "  No  explanation 
is  necessary  for  that.  It  is  possible  that  he  may  some- 
times have  ventured  more  than  was  necessary  in  looks 
and  small  remarks;  but  he  is  amiable  and  full  of  tal- 
ent, and  we  must  make  allowances  for  his  vocation." 


VEXATIONS.  235 

"  He  is  a  miserable  fop,"  cried  Mr.  Hummel,  hurl- 
ing his  second  boot  from  him. 

"That  is  not  true,"  cried  Mrs.  Hummel,  warmly. 
"  But  if  it  were,  Henry — even  if  you  could  judge  him 
utterly  unworthy, — do  not  forget  that  pride  and  a  feel- 
ing of  duty  dwell  in  the  heart  of  your  wife,  and  that 
your  suspicion  is  an  insult  to  these  protecting  genii." 

"She  is  a  coquettish,  silly  flirt,"  replied  Hummel, 
dragging  his  slippers  from  under  his  bed. 

Mrs.  Hummel  started  back  horrified. 

"Your  wife  has  not  deserved  this  treatment.  You 
tread  under  foot  what  should  be  holy  to  you.  Come 
to  your  senses,  I  conjure  you;  your  jealousy  ap- 
proaches to  madness." 

"I  jealous  of  such  a  person!"  cried  Hummel,  con- 
temptuously, vehemently  knocking  the  ashes  from  his 
pipe.  "Then  I  must  indeed  be  out  of  my  mind. 
Leave  me  in  peace  with  all  this  nonsense." 

Mrs.  Hummel  seized  her  pocket-handkerchief  and 
began  to  sob: 

"  He  has  so  often  amused  me;  he  tells  anecdotes 
as  I  never  heard  any  one  in  my  life;  but  if  he  excites 
you,  so  that  you  lose  your  reason  and  insult  your  wife 
by  calling  her  names,  I  have  made  many  sacrifices 
during  our  wedded  life,  and  he  also  must  fall  on  the 
altar  of  domestic  peace.  Accept  it,  he  shall  never 
again  be  invited." 

"Who  is  he?"  asked  Hummel. 

"Who  but  the  comedian?" 

"Who  is  she?" 

"  Mrs.  Hummel  gave  him  a  look  which  showed 
indubitably  that  she  herself  was  the  lady. 

"Is  it  possible,"  exclaimed  Hummel  in  astonish- 
ment, "that  is  how  the  land  lies?  Why  do  you  want 


236  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

to  slaughter  your  theatrical  buffoon  on  the  altar  of  do- 
mestic peace?  Rather  put  something  slaughtered  be- 
fore him;  that  would  be  more  agreeable  to  his  culti- 
vated palate.  Be  composed,  Philippine.  You  are  often 
unintelligible  in  your  speeches,  and  you  make  too 
much  ado;  you  spin  your  theatrical  webs  in  your 
head,  and  you  have  your  humors  and  confused  ideas 
in  general;  but  for  the  rest,  you  are  my  worthy  wife, 
of  whom  no  evil  shall  be  thought  either  by  myself  or 
others.  Now  do  not  thwart  me,  for  I  have  determined 
to  write  him  a  letter." 

While  Mrs.  Hummel,  stupefied,  seated  herself  on 
the  sofa,  and  considered  whether  she  should  be  morti- 
fied or  tranquilized  by  her  husband's  praise,  and 
whether  she  had  been  under  a  foolish  delusion,  or 
that  her  Henry's  madness  had  taken  the  new  form  of 
bonhomie,  Mr.  Hummel  wrote  as  follows: — 

"My  Dear  Gabriel, — Yesterday,  on  the  iyth  of 
this  month,  at  7.45  in  the  evening,  I  saw,  on  bench 
No.  4,  on  the  common,  Dorothy  from  over  the  way  sit- 
ting with  Knips  junior.  This  is  for  warning  and  fur- 
ther consideration.  I  am  ready  to  act  according  to 
your  orders.  Straw,  Gabriel! — Your  affectionate 

H.  HUMMEL." 

By  the  same  post  a  letter  flew  from  Laura  to  Use 
in  the  Pavilion.  The  faithful  soul  wrote  sorrowfully. 
The  little  quarrels  of  the  house  and  the  neighborhood 
vexed  her  more  than  was  necessary.  Of  the  Doctor 
she  saw  little,  and  what  was  the  bitterest  grief  for  her, 
she  had  given  away  the  last  song;  she  had  nothing 
more  to  send  to  the  Doctor,  and  wished  to  continue 
the  correspondence  without  inclosures.  Use  was  greatly 
surprised  by  one  sentence,  the  sense  of  which  was  not 
very  clear  to  her:  "  I  have  obtained  permission  from 


VEXATIONS.  237 

Miss  Jeannette  to  give  lessons  in  her  institution.  I 
will  no  longer  be  a  useless  bread- eater.  Since  I  have 
lost  your  society  all  is  cold  and  desolate  about  me. 
My  only  comfort  is,  that  I  at  least  am  prepared  to  fly 
into  foreign  parts,  and  there  collect  the  grains  which 
I  need  for  the  prolongation  of  my  life." 

"  Where  is  my  husband?"  asked   Use,  of  her  maid. 

"The  Professor  has  gone  to  her  Highness,  the 
Princess." 

"Call  Gabriel." 

"He  has  received  bad  news,  and  is  sitting  in  his 
room." 

Immediately  afterwards  Gabriel  entered,  with  a 
distressed  countenance. 

"What  has  happened?"  asked  Use,  alarmed. 

"  It  is  my  own  affair  only,"  replied  Gabriel,  with 
quivering  voice;  "it  is  no  good  news  that  this  letter 
has  brought  to  me." 

He  took  out  of  his  pocket  Hummel's  crumpled 
letter,  and  turning  away,  leaned  his  head  against  the 
window-sill. 

"Poor  Gabriel!"  exclaimed  Use.  "But  there  may 
still  be  some  explanation  to  justify  the  girl." 

"  I  thank  you  for  your  confidence  in  her,  Mrs. 
Werner,"  replied  Gabriel,  solemnly,  "  but  this  letter 
informs  me  of  my  misfortune.  He  who  has  written  to 
me  is  true  as  gold.  But  I  knew  all,  before  I  had  re- 
ceived it.  She  did  not  answer  my  last  letter;  she  has 
not  sent  me  the  pocket-book;  and  yesterday  evening, 
when  I  went  out  and  was  thinking  of  her,  a  lark  flew 
towards  me  and  sang  a  song  that  made  me  certain 
of  it." 

"  That  is  folly,  Gabriel.     You  ought  not  to  let  your 


238  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

judgment  be  influenced  because  a  bird  accidentally  oc- 
casioned you  sorrowful  thoughts." 

"It  was  evident,  Mrs.  Werner,"  replied  Gabriel, 
sorrowfully.  "Just  as  the  lark  flew  up  and  I  was  think- 
ing of  Dorothy,  the  words  which  I  heard  as  a  child  and 
which  I  have  not  heard  since,  occurred  to  me.  It 
is  no  superstition,  and  I  can  repeat  the  sentence  to 
you: 

"  Lark,  dear  lark,  high  o'er  the  smoke, 
What  new  thing  have  you  to  tell  me?" 

This  thought  came  to  me,  and  then  I  heard,  as  dis- 
tinctly as  if  some  one  was  whispering  the  answer  in 
my  ear: 

"  Two  lovers  sat  near  a  hazel-bush, 
The  third  was  crying  and  moaning; 
The  two  pass  the  threshold  of  Hymen's  house, 
The  third  sits  alone  and  mourns  a  spouse." 

Gabriel  took  out  his  pocket-handkerchief. 

"  That  was  a  certain  foreboding  that  Dorothy  had 
been  false  to  me." 

"Gabriel,  I  fear  she  was  always  fickle-minded,"  ex- 
claimed Use. 

"She  has  a  heart  like  a  bird,"  said  Gabriel,  apolo- 
getically. "She  is  not  a  serious  person,  and  it  is  her 
nature  to  be  friendly  with  all.  That  I  knew;  but  her 
gaiety,  light-heartedness,  and  pleasant  jesting  made 
her  dear  to  me.  It  was  a  misfortune  for  me  and  her 
that  I  was  obliged  to  leave  her  just  when  she  began  to 
favor  me  and  discourage  others  who  were  showing  her 
attention.  For  I  know  that  the  book-keeper  had  long 
had  his  eyes  upon  her,  and  had  prospects  which  would 
enable  him  to  marry  her,  and  that  was  a  better  pro- 
vision than  I  could  give  her." 

"Something  must  be  done  about  this,"  said  Use. 
"Do  you  want  to  go  back  to  the  city  to  ascertain  how 


VEXATIONS.  239 

matters  stand?  My  husband  will  immediately  give 
you  permission.  Perhaps  it  is  not  so  bad  after  all." 

"For  me  it  is  as  bad  as  it  can  be,  Mrs.  Werner. 
If  you  will  have  the  kindness  to  look  after  Dorothy,  to 
see  that  she  is  not  made  unhappy,  I  will  thank  you 
from  my  heart.  I  shall  never  see  her  again.  If  one 
loves  any  one,  one  should  not  leave  them  alone  when 
they  are  in  temptation." 

Use  endeavored  to  comfort  him,  but  Gabriel's 
words  went  to  her  heart. 

"The  third  sits  alone,"  she  repeated,  in  a  tone  of 
sorrow. 

Use  was  again  alone  in  the  hall,  looking  sadly 
at  the  strange  walls.  All  the  sorrow  that  had  ever 
moved  a  human  soul  in  this  room,  jealousy  and  wounded 
pride,  feverish  expectation  and  hopeless  longing, 
mourning  over  the  destruction  of  happiness,  and  terror 
for  the  future,  the  cries  of  anguish  and  the  plaints  of 
tormented  conscience,  all  these  now  awoke  an  indis- 
tinct and  trembling  echo  in  the  heart  of  the  woman. 

"  It  is  strange  and  gloomy  here,  and  if  I  try  to  ex- 
press in  words  what  distresses  me,  all  power  of  expres- 
sion fails  me.  I  am  no  prisoner,  and  yet  the  air  that 
'surrounds  me  is  that  of  a  dungeon.  The  Chamberlain 
has  not  been  near  me  for  days,  and  the  young  Prince, 
who  used  to  speak  to  me  as  to  a  friend,  comes  seldom, 
and  then  but  for  a  few  minutes,  and  it  is  worse  than  if 
he  were  not  here.  He  is  as  depressed  as  I  am,  and 
looks  at  me  as  if  he  felt  the  same  nameless  anguish. 
And  his  father?  when  he  comes  to  me  he  is  so  kind 
that  one  cannot  but  like  him;  but  as  soon  as  he  turns 
his  back  his  features  appear  before  my  mind  distorted. 
It  is  not  good  to  be  near  the  great  people  of  the  world; 
they  seem  to  take  a  fancy  to  one  and  open  their  heart 


240 


THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 


as  to  friends,  and  one  scarcely  feels  the  elevation  of 
mind  occasioned  by  this,  when  tormenting  spirits  seem 
suddenly  to  draw  them  back  into  their  invisible  realm, 
and  one  is  troubled  and  excited  about  them.  Such  a 
life  is  destructive  of  peace. 

"  Felix  says,  one  ought  not  to  care  about  these 
frivolous  people.  How  can  one  avoid  interest  and 
anxiety  about  them  when  the  welfare  of  their  souls  is 
a  blessing  to  all? 

"  Is  it  only  this  that  gives  you  such  restless  thoughts, 
Use?"  she  asked  herself;  "  is  it  this,  or  is  it  pride,  now 
wounded,  and  now  again  flattered;  or  is  it  anguish 
about  the  loved  one  whom  she  wishes  secretly  to  tear 
from  you? 

"  Why  am  I  so  fearful  about  you,  my  Felix?  Why 
do  I  despair  because  he  has  found  a  woman  here  of 
the  same  stamp  of  mind  as  his  own?  Am  I  not  so  also? 
Have  I  too  not  unfolded  in  the  light  of  his  mind?  I 
am  no  longer  the  ignorant  cbuntry-giri  that  he  once 
brought  from  among  the  herds.  If  I  am  deficient  in 
the  attractive  charm  of  the  distinguished  lady,  what 
can  she  give  him  more  than  I?  He  is  no  boy,  and  he 
knows  that  every  hour  I  live  for  him.  I  despise  you, 
miserable  thoughts;  how  have  you  found  entrance  into 
my  soul?  I  am  no  prisoner  within  these  walls,  and  if 
I  linger  here  where  you  have  power  over  me,  I  remain 
on  his  account.  One  should  not  forsake  him  whom 
one  loves, — that  word  was  spoken  for  me  also.  My 
father's  child  shall  not  cry  and  mourn  even  though  her 
loved  one  should  be  sitting  with  the  Princess  by  the 
hazel-bush." 


VEXATIONS.  241 

Gabriel  was  stealing  along  in  a  distant  part  of  the 
pleasure-ground.  He  suddenly  felt  a  touch  on  his 
shoulder;  Prince  Victor  was  standing  behind  him. 

"  Friend  Gabriel?" 

"At  your  Highness's  commands." 

"Where  have  you  served?" 

"With  the  Blue  Hussars." 

"Good,"  nodded  the  Prince;  "we  are  in  the  same 
branch  of  the  service.  I  hear  you  are  a  trustworthy 
fellow.  But  what  is  the  matter  with  you  ?"  He  took 
out  his  purse.  "We  will  share;  take  what  you  want.' 

Gabriel  shook  his  head. 

"Then  the  women  are  at  fault,"  cried  the  Prince; 
"that  is  worse.  Is  she  proud?" 

Gabriel  dissented. 

"  Is  she  faithless?" 

The  poor  fellow  turned  away. 

"I  am,  alas!  a  bad  intercessor  with  parents,"  said 
the  Prince,  sympathizingly;  "the  race  of  fathers  have 
little  confidence  in  me.  But  if  it  is  only  a  question  of 
appealing  to  a  girl's  conscience,  then  depend  upon  me." 

"  I  thank  you  for  your  good-will,  Highness,  but  noth- 
ing can  help  me.  I  will  have  to  fight  it  out  alone." 

He  turned  away  again. 

"Bah!  comrade,  have  you  forgotten  the  soldiers' 
saying:  'Like  all,  love  one,  grieve  for  none?'  If  your 
heart  is  heavy,  you  should  not  rove  about  as  you  do. 
In  lack  of  another  companion  put  up  for  the  time 
with  me." 

"That  is  too  much  honor,"  said  Gabriel,  taking  off 
his  cap. 

The  Prince  had  during  this  conversation  gradually 
led  him  into  a  thicket;  he  seated  himself  on  the  root 
of  an  old  tree,  and  motioned  Gabriel  to  the  next  trunk. 


242  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

"We  are  in  concealment  here;  you  look  out  that 
way,  I  will  watch  this  road,  that  no  one  can  surprise 
us.  How  do  your  lodgings  please  you?  Have  you 
found  pleasant  acquaintances?" 

"I  think  it  prudent  to  trust  no  one  here,"  answered 
Gabriel,  cautiously. 

"  But  I  do  not  belong  here;  there  is  no  reason 
why  you  should  not  make  me  an  exception.  You  may 
assume  that  we  belong  to  the  same  company,  that  we 
are  sitting  by  the  same  fire,  and  drinking  from  the 
same  flask.  You  are  right:  all  is  not  so  safe  here  as  it 
looks.  I  do  not  like  these  nocturnal  disturbances  in 
the  castle.  Have  you  heard  of  them?" 

Gabriel  assented. 

"In  such  an  old  castle,"  continued  the  Prince, 
"there  are  many  doors  that  few  know — perhaps  also 
passages  in  the  wall.  Whether  it  is  spirits  or  some- 
thing else,  who  knows?  It  glides  about  and  some- 
times comes  out  when  one  least  expects  it;  and  just 
when  one  has  put  on  one's  night-shirt  a  secret  door  is 
opened,  or  a  plank  in  the  floor  rises,  and  a  cursed  ap- 
parition floats  up,  removes  what  is  on  the  table,  and 
before  one  can  bethink  oneself,  disappears  again." 

"Who  can  allow  such  a  thing,  your  Highness?"  re- 
plied Gabriel,  valiantly. 

"  Who  can  be  on  his  guard?"  said  the  Prince,  laugh- 
ing; "it  stretches  out  its  hand,  and  one  becomes  im- 
movable; it  holds  a  sponge  before  the  nose  of  the 
sleeper  and  he  does  not  awake." 

Gabriel  listened  attentively. 

"People  say  that  in  the  Pavilion  all  is  not  secure," 
continued  the  Prince.  "It  would  be  as  well  for  a 
trusty  man  to  make  an  examination  in  secret;  and  if  an 
entrance  should  be  found  that  is  not  regular  it  should 


VEXATIONS.  243 

be  fastened  with  a  screw  or  a  bolt.  It  is  indeed  uncer- 
tain whether  or  not  one  may  find  such  a  thing,  for 
such  devil's  work  is  slyly  managed." 

He  nodded  significantly  to  Gabriel,  who  stared  at 
him  in  great  astonishment. 

"That  is  only  a  thought  of  mine,"  said  the  Prince; 
but  when  a  soldier  is  in  foreign  quarters  he  looks  after 
every  security  during  the  time  that  his  people  sleep." 

"I  understand  all,"  replied  Gabriel,  in  a  low  voice. 

"One  must  not  cause  others  unnecessary  alarm,"  con- 
tinued the  Prince;  "but  in  secret  one  may  do  one's 
duty  like  a  brave  man.  I  see  you  are  that."  The  Prince 
rose  from  his  seat.  "If  you  should  at  any  time  need 
my  help,  or  have  anything  to  tell  me  which  no  one 
else  should  know,  I  have  a  fellow  with  a  great  mous- 
tache, a  good,  quiet  man;  make  his  acquaintance.  For 
the  rest,  take  care  of  yourselves  here.  There  is  a 
lackey  who  idles  about  near  you;  if  there  are  any  er- 
rands to  do  he  can  attend  to  them.  It  is  a  good  thing 
for  a  family  to  have  a  trustworthy  man  at  hand  in  a 
strange  house.  Good  day,  comrade,  I  hope  I  have 
changed  the  current  of  your  thoughts." 

He  went  away;  Gabriel  remained  in  deep  thought. 
The  bantering  of  the  Prince  had  roused  the  honest 
man  from  his  sorrow;  he  busied  himself  now  about  the 
house  in  the  day-time,  but  in  the  evening,  when  his 
master  and  mistress  were  at  the  theatre,  he  was  to  be 
seen  sometimes  with  the  Prince's  servant  in  confiden- 
tial conversation  on  a  garden  bench. 

The  spirit  of  sad  foreboding  spread  its  grey  veil 
over  the  walls  of  the  Pavilion,  but  in  the  Sovereign's 
castle  meanwhile  an  invisible  hobgoblin  of  another 
kind  was  at  work,  disturbing  great  and  small.  The 
stable  was  in  consternation.  The  .Prince's  favorite 


244  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

saddle-horse  was  a  white  Ivenacker.  When  in  the 
morning  the  groom  went  to  the  horse,  he  found  it 
with  a  large  black  heart  painted  on  its  chest.  He 
could  not  wash  out  the  scandalous  mark,  probably  the 
evil  spirit  had  in  this  prank  employed  a  dye  intended 
for  the  hair  of  man.  Connoisseurs  declared  that  only 
time  could  heal  the  injury.  They  could  not  help  mak- 
ing it  known  to  the  Sovereign  who  was  violently  angry, 
and  set  the  strictest  investigations  on  foot.  The  night- 
watchers  of  the  stable  had  seen  no  one,  no  stranger's 
foot  had  entered  the  place;  only  the  groom  of  Prince 
Victor,  a  moustached  foreigner,  had,  at  the  same  time 
with  the  other  stable  servants,  cleaned  the  horse  that 
he  had  lately  received  as  a  present  from  a  relative. 
The  man  was  examined,  he  spoke  little  German,  was 
said  by  the  other  servants  to  be  harmless  and  simple, 
and  nothing  could  be  learnt  from  him.  Finally,  the 
stable-boy  who  had  kept  watch  was  dismissed  from 
service.  He  disappeared  from  the  capital,  and  would 
have  been  reduced  to  great  misery  if  Prince  Victor 
had  not  provided  for  the  poor  wretch  in  his  garrison. 

There  was  a  great  uproar  among  the  ballet-girls. 
In  the  new  tragic  ballet,  "The  Water  Sprite,"  the  first 
dancer,  Guiseppa  Scarletti,  had  a  brilliant  role,  in 
which  she  was  to  wear  green-silk  trunks,  with  rich 
silver  trimmings.  When  she  was  to  put  on  this  part 
of  the  costume,  which  was  very  important  for  the 
role,  for  the  first  representation,  her  assistant  was  so 
awkward  as  to  hand  it  to  her  wrong  side  foremost. 
The  lady  expressed  her  displeasure  strongly,  the  tire- 
woman turned  it  round,  and  it  was  still  wrong.  Upon 
nearer  inspection  of  this  piece  of  art,  it  was  discovered, 
with  dismay,  that  it  presented  two  convex  surfaces  like 
the  shell  of  a  bivalve.  Mademoiselle  Scarletti  broke  out 


VEXATIONS.  245 

into  a  fury,  and  then  into  tears  and  finally  hysterics; 
the  manager  and  the  intendant  were  called;  the  artiste 
declared  that  after  this  disgrace  and  disturbance  she 
could  not  dance.  It  was  not  until  Prince  Victor,  whom 
she  highly  esteemed,  came  into  the  dressing-room  to 
express  his  deep  indignation,  and  the  Sovereign  desired 
her  to  be  told  that  the  insult  should  be  punished  in 
the  severest  manner,  that  she  recovered  sufficient 
courage  to  play  the  difficult  role.  Meanwhile  the  fairy- 
like  rapidity  of  the  theatrical  tailor  had  remedied  the 
injury  to  her  dress.  She  danced  superbly,  but  with  a 
sad  expression  that  became  her  well.  The  intendant 
was  already  rejoicing  that  the  misfortune  had  thus 
passed  off,  when  suddenly,  in  the  midst  of  the  last 
scene,  when  the  whole  depth  of  the  stage  was  dis- 
closed, the  exchanged  trunks  appeared  under  Bengal 
lights  in  the  water  nymph's  grotto,  hanging  peacefully 
upon  two  projecting  points  of  a  silver  rock,  as  if  a 
water  sprite  had  hung  them  up  to  dry.  Upon  this  there 
was  a  disturbance,  and  loud  laughter  among  the  au- 
dience, and  the  curtain  had  to  fall  before  the  Bengal 
lights  were  extinguished.  It  all  looked  like  revenge, 
but  again  the  culprit  could  not  be  discovered. 

The  hair  of  all  the  servants  stood  on  end.  They 
knew  that  in  the  bad  times  of  the  princely  house  a 
black  lady  walked  through  the  corridors  and  rooms, 
which  portended  misfortune  to  it.  The  belief  in  this 
was  general;  even  the  High  Marshal  shared  in  it;  the 
black  lady  had  appeared  to  his  grandfather,  when,  on 
a  lonely  night,  he  was  awaiting  the  return  of  his 
gracious  master.  One  evening,  after  the  Court  had 
withdrawn,  the  Marshal  was  walking,  with  the  lackey 
carrying  a  light  before  him,  through  the  empty  rooms 
to  the  wing  in  which  Prince  Victor  lodged,  in  order  to 


246  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

smoke  a  cigar  with  him.  Suddenly  the  lackey  started 
back  and  pointed,  trembling,  to  a  corner.  There  stood 
the  black  figure,  the  head  covered  with  a  veil;  she  raised 
her  hand  threateningly,  and  disappeared  through  a 
door  in  the  tapestry.  The  light  fell  out  of  the  hand  of 
the  lackey,  the  Marshal  groped  in  the  dark  to  the  ante- 
room of  the  Prince,  and  sank  down  on  the  sofa  there. 
When  the  Prince  entered  from  his  dressing-room  he 
found  him  in  a  state  of  the  highest  consternation: 
even  a  glass  of  punch,  which  he  himself  poured  out, 
could  not  arouse  him  from  his  depression.  The  news 
that  the  black  lady  had  appeared  flew  throughout  the 
castle;  an  uneasy  foreboding  of  evil  occupied  the 
Court.  In  the  evening  the  lackeys  ran  hurriedly 
through  the  corridor,  and  were  frightened  at  the  echo 
of  their  own  steps,  and  the  Court  ladies  would  not 
leave  their  rooms  without  escort.  The  Sovereign  also 
heard  of  it;  his  brow  contracted  gloomily,  and  at  dinner 
he  looked  contemptuously  at  the  Marshal. 

Even  the  Court  ladies  were  not  spared.  Miss 
von  Lossau,  who  lodged  in  a  wing  of  the  palace  over 
the  rooms  of  the  Princess,  returned  to  her  apartment 
one  night  in  the  happiest  frame  of  mind.  Prince  Vic- 
tor had  paid  her  marked  attentions.  He  had  been 
very  amusing,  and  had  shown  a  degree  of  feeling  which 
he  had  never  before  evinced.  Her  maid  undressed 
her,  and  she  laid  herself  to  rest  with  sweet  and  pleasant 
thoughts.  All  was  quiet:  she  fell  into  her  first  sleep. 
The  image  of  the  Prince  danced  before  her;  then  she 
heard  a  slight  noise;  there  was  a  crackling;  something 
moved  slowly  under  her  bed.  She  started;  the  mys 
terious  noise  ceased.  She  was  on  the  point  of  delud- 
ing herself  into  the  belief  that  it  was  a  dream,  when 
the  noise  was  repeated  under  the  bed,  and  something 


VEXATIONS.  247 

came  clattering  out.  She  heard  an  alarming  sound, 
and  saw  by  the  faint  light  of  the  night-lamp  that  a 
ball  was  slowly  pushing  itself  behind  the  chair,  and 
stopping  in  front  of  the  bed.  Half  unconscious  from 
terror,  she  jumped  out  of  bed,  touched  a  strange  ob- 
ject with  her  naked  foot,  at  once  felt  a  sharp  pain,  and 
sank  back  with  a  scream.  She  now  raised  a  loud  cry 
for  help,  till  her  maid  rushed  in,  and  tremblingly  lit 
the  candle.  The  lady  was  still  shrieking  in  a  corner, 
where  the  prickly  spectre-ball  still  lingered  in  quiet 
timidity,  and  gradually  showed  itself  to  be  a  great 
hedgehog,  which  was  sitting  there,  still  dreamy  from 
its  winter  sleep,  with  tears  on  its  nose.  Miss  Lossau 
became  ill  from  fright.  When  the  physician  hastened  to 
her  the  next  morning,  he  found  the  lackeys  and  maid- 
servants collected  in  close  conclave  before  her  door. 
On  the  door  was  pasted  a  white  placard,  on  which  was 
to  be  read,  in  large  characters,  "Bettina  von  Lossau, 
Princely  Court  Spy."  Again  there  was  the  strictest  in- 
vestigation, and  again  the  culprit  was  not  discovered. 

But  the  spirit  of  torment  that  had  quartered  itself 
under  the  roof  of  the  castle  did  not  confine  its  tricks 
to  the  Court  and  its  household:  it  ventured  to  disturb 
the  Professor  also  in  his  learned  work. 

Use  was  sitting  alone,  looking  absent-mindedly  at 
the  pictures  of  Reynard  the  Fox,  when  the  lackey 
threw  open  the  door,  announcing: 

"  His  Highness,  the  Sovereign!  " 

The  Sovereign  glanced  at  the  picture  in  the  open 
book. 

"So  that  is  the  view  you  take  of  our  position.  The 
satire  of  those  pages  is  bitter,  but  they  contain  imper- 
ishable truth." 

Use  closed  the  book,  coloring. 


248  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

"The  ill-behaved  beasts  are  rude  egotists;  it  is 
otherwise  among  men." 

"Do  you  think  so?"  asked  the  Sovereign.  "Those 
who  have  had  experience  with  them  will  not  judge  so 
leniently.  The  two-legged  animals  that  pursue  their 
aims  at  the  courts  of  princes  are,  for  the  most  part, 
as  reckless  in  their  egotism,  and  as  much  inclined  to 
profess  their  attachment.  It  is  not  easy  to  restrain  their 
pretensions." 

"  Amongst  the  bad  there  are  surely  some  better,  in 
whom  good  preponderates?"  rejoined  Use. 

The  Sovereign  inclined  his  head  civilly. 

"  He  who  has  to  watch  all  keenly  feels  the  narrow- 
mindedness  of  every  individual,  for  he  must  know 
where  and  how  far  he  can  place  confidence.  Such  an 
observation  of  various  natures,  which  is  always  seek- 
ing to  separate  the  reality  from  the  glitter,  to  sound 
the  worth  of  different  characters,  and  to  retain  for  the 
observer  superior  judgment,  sharpens  the  perception 
of  the  deficiencies  of  others.  It  is  possible  that  we 
may  sometimes  judge  too  severely,  while  you,  with 
your  warm  feeling,  fall  into  the  amiable  weakness  of 
viewing  men  in  too  favorable  a  light." 

"  My  lot,  then,  is  happier,"  exclaimed  Use,  looking 
at  the  Sovereign,  with  honest  commiseration. 

"  It  is  sweeter  and  happier,"  said  the  latter  with 
feeling,  "to  give  one's  self  up  without  restraint  to 
one's  feelings,  to  associate  innocently  with  a  few  whom 
one  chooses  freely,  to  avoid  by  slight  effort  the  ill- 
disposed,  and  to  open  one's  heart  gladly,  and  without 
restraint,  to  those  one  loves.  But  he  who  is  con- 
demned to  live  in  the  cold  atmosphere  of  business, 
struggling  against  countless  interests  which  clash  to- 
gether, can  only  carry  on  this  existence  by  surround- 


VEXATIONS.  249 

ing  his  daily  life  with  regulations  which  will  at  least 
preserve  him  from  overwhelming  burdens  and  annoy- 
ances, and  compel  the  foxes  and  wolves  to  bend  their 
stubborn  heads.  Such  rules  of  Court  and  government 
are  no  perfect  work;  there  will  often  be  complaints 
against  them.  You,  perhaps,  may  have  had  occasion 
to  remark  that  the  customs  and  etiquette,  of  a  Court 
are  not  without  harshness;  yet  they  are  necessary,  for 
it  makes  it  easy  to  us  to  withdraw  and  keep  within 
ourselves,  and  maintain  a  certain  isolation,  which  helps 
us  to  preserve  our  inward  freedom." 

Use  looked  conscious. 

"But  believe  me,"  continued  the  Sovereign,  "we 
still  are  human  beings;  we  would  gladly  give  ourselves 
up  to  the  impulse  of  the  moment,  and  live  without  re- 
straint with  those  whom  we  esteem.  We, must  often 
sacrifice  ourselves,  and  we  experience  moments  when 
such  sacrifices  are  very  severe." 

"But  within  the  princely  family  itself  these  con- 
siderations do  not  apply,"  exclaimed  Use.  "The  mu- 
tual intercourse  of  father  and  children,  brothers  and 
sisters,— these  holy  relations  can  never  be  disturbed." 

A  cloud  came  over  the  countenance  of  the  Sover- 
eign. 

"Even  they  suffer  in  their  exposed  position.  We 
do  not  live  together;  we  see  each  other  less  alone, 
generally  under  the  observation  of  others.  Each  has 
his  special  circle  of  interest,  is  influenced  by  those 
about  him,  who  perhaps  diminish  his  confidence  in 
his  nearest  relations.  You  know  my  son;  he  has  all 
the  qualifications  of  a  good,  open-hearted  man,  but 
you  will  have  observed  how  suspicious  and  reserved 
he  has  become." 


250  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

Use  forgot  all  caution,  and  again  felt  a  little  proud 
of  being  a  confidante. 

"Forgive  me,"  she  explained;  "  I  have  never  found 
that.  He  is  only  bashful,  and  sometimes  a  little  awk- 
ward." 

The  Sovereign  smiled. 

"  You  lately  expressed  an  opinion  with  reference 
to  what  would  be  advantageous  for  his  future.  That 
he  should  for  a  time  become  acquainted  with  the 
management  of  a  large  family  estate;  it  would  un- 
doubtedly be  good  for  him  to  learn  the  work  of  a 
country  gentleman  by  experience.  Besides  this,  he  is 
not  happy  at  Court." 

Use  nodded. 

"  Have  you  also  remarked  that?"  asked  the  Sover- 
eign. 

"  I  will  give  good  advice  for  my  Prince,"  thought 
Use,  "even  if  it  is  not  quite  agreeable  to  him.  May  I 
venture  to  say,"  she  said  aloud,  "that  this  is  the  best 
time  of  all.  For  he  must  learn,  your  Highness,  the 
spring  tilling,  which  is  in  full  operation,  so  there 
must  be  no  delay." 

The  Sovereign  was  much  pleased  with  this  zeal. 

"It  will  not  be  easy  to  find  a  place,"  he  said. 

"Perhaps  your  Highness  has  an  estate  in  the 
neighborhood  where  there  is  a  small  manor-house." 

"Then  he  could  come  often  to  the  city,"  replied 
the  Sovereign  sharply. 

"That  would  not  do,"  continued  Use,  eagerly. 
"He  must  first  thoroughly  know  the  work  of  the  peo- 
ple, and  for  that  be  constantly  in  the  fields." 

"I  could  not  find  a  better  adviser,"  said  the  Sover- 
eign, in  excellent  humor.  "  There  is  nothing  in  the 


VEXATIONS.  251 

vicinity  that  will  answer;  I  have  thought,  however,  of 
your  father's  estate.' 

Use  started  with  surprise. 

"But  our  mode  of  life  is  not  adapted  for  the  ac- 
commodation of  a  prince,"  she  replied  with  reserve. 
"No,  gracious  Sovereign,  the  domestic  arrangements 
of  our  family  would  not  be  suitable  to  the  pretensions 
of  the  young  man.  I  say  nothing  of  other  consid- 
erations which  formerly  never  occurred  to  me,  and 
which  have  first  come  home  to  me  here.  Therefore,  if 
I  may  speak  what  I  feel,  I  am  of  opinion  that  this,  for 
many  reasons,  will  not  answer." 

"  It  was  only  a  thought,"  replied  the  Sovereign, 
good-humoredly.  "The  object  may  perhaps  be  at- 
tained without  encroaching  upon  your  father.  It  has 
been  my  wish,"  he  continued,  with  chivalrous  polite- 
ness, "to  give  you  and  your  father  a  public  proof  of 
my  esteem.  I  have  special  reasons  for  it."  He  looked 
significantly  at  Use,  and  she  thought  of  the  birthday 
of  the  Princess. 

"I  know  the  reason,"  she  said  softly. 

The  Sovereign  drew  his  chair  near. 

"Your  father  has  a  large  family?"  he  asked.  "I 
have  a  vague  recollection  of  having  seen  several  rosy- 
cheeked  boys  about." 

"They  were  my  brothers,"  said  Use,  laughing; 
"they  are  handsome  little  fellows,  gracious  Sovereign, 
if  I,  as  a  sister,  may  praise  them;  they  are  at  present 
somewhat  uncouth,  but  good  and  clever.  My  Franz 
wrote  to  me  only  yesterday  to  beg  me  to  greet  your 
Highness  for  him.  The  little  urchin  thinks  it  is  the 
right  thing.  Now,  as  I  have  the  opportunity,  I  will 
show  you  the  letter  as  he  has  written  it;  it  is  a  stupid, 
childish  message,  but  it  comes  from  a  good  heart." 


•252  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

She  felt  in  her  pocket  and  brought  forth  a  letter 
written  in  fair  characters. 

"See,  your  Highness,  how  well  the  child  writes. 
But  I  must  not  show  you  the  letter,  for  your  Highness 
would  find  in  it  a  confirmation  of  your  opinion,  that 
men  have  always  selfish  wishes  in  the  background 
when  they  think  of  their  princes.  The  poor  boy  also 
has  his  wish." 

"Then  let  us  have  it,"  said  the  Sovereign. 

Use  showed  him  the  letter;  the  Sovereign  gra- 
ciously took  hold  of  the  letter,  and  in  doing  so,  his 
hand  rested  on  hers. 

"  He  is  so  barefaced  as  to  ask  your  highness  for 
an  india-rubber  ball.  The  ball  is  already  bought." 

She  jumped  up  and  brought  a  gigantic  colored  ball. 

"This  I  shall  send  to  him  to-day,  and  I  shall  write 
to  him  that  it  is  not  seemly  to  beg  of  so  great  a  per- 
sonage. He  is  nine  years  old,  but  still  very  childish 
— your  highness  must  forgive  him." 

Enchanted  by  this  frank  open-heartedness,  the 
Sovereign  said: 

"Write  to  him,  at  the  same  time,  that  I  wish  to  tell 
him  he  must  endeavor  to  preserve  through  the  dan- 
gerous paths  of  life  the  pure  feeling  and  loyal  spirit 
of  his  eldest  sister.  I  also  feel  how  great  is  the  bless- 
ing of  your  character  to  all  who  have  the  happiness  of 
breathing  your  atmosphere.  In  a  course  of  life  which 
is  filled  with  harrowing  impressions,  in  which  hatred 
and  suspicion  take  more  from  the  peace  of  the  soul 
than  hours  of  repose  can  restore  to  it,  I  have  still  re- 
tained my  susceptibility  for  the  innocent  freshness  of 
a  mind  like  yours.  You  give  me  genuine  pleasure." 

Again  he  laid  his  hand  gently  on  hers;  Use  looked 
down  confused  at  the  praise  of  her  dear  Sovereign. 


VEXATIONS.  253 

A  hasty  step  approached;  the  Sovereign  rose,  and 
the  Professor  entered.  He  bowed  to  the  Sovereign, 
and  looked  surprised  at  his  wife. 

"You  are  not  ill?"  he  exclaimed.  "Pardon,  gra- 
cious Sir,  I  came  in  great  anxiety  about  my  wife.  A 
strange  boy  rang  the  bell  at  the  Museum,  and  brought 
a  message  that  I  must  go  immediately  to  see  my  wife, 
as  she  was  ill;  fortunately  it  was  a  mistake." 

"I  am  thankful  for  the  error,"  replied  the  Sover- 
eign, "as  it  gives  me  the  opportunity  of  saying  to 
you  what  I  was  intending  to  mention  to  Madame  Wer- 
ner; orders  have  been  given  at  the  stable  that  a  car- 
riage shall  be  ready  for  you  at  any  hour  that  you  wish 
to  take  a  journey  in  the  neighborhood  to  pursue  your 
mysterious  investigations." 

He  took  leave  graciously. 


* 

*  * 


The  Sovereign  opened  the  window  of  his  study; 
the  air  was  sultry,  the  sun  had  been  shining  long  upon 
the  earth;  now  it  had  vanished,  heavy  clouds  rolled 
themselves,  like  great  shapeless  porpoises,  over  the 
city  and  castle.  -The  Sovereign  fetched  a  deep  breath, 
but  the  heavy,  sultry  air  forced  the  smoke  from  the 
chimneys  of  the  castle  down  to  his  window,  envelop- 
ing his  head  like  a  great  mist.  He  hastily  opened  the 
door  of  the  gallery  which  led  to  the  reception-rooms, 
and  walked  out.  Against  the  walls  hung  a  row  of  oil 
pictures,  the  portraits  of  beautiful  ladies  whom  he  had 
once  favored  with  his  attentions.  His  look  strayed 
from  one  to  the  other;  at  the  end  of  the  row  was  an 
empty  place;  he  stopped  before  it,  and  his  fancy 
painted  a  picture  with  blonde  hair,  and  a  true-hearted, 
frank  light  in  the  eyes,  more  touching  than  any  of  the 
other  faces. 


254  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

"So  late,"  he  said,  to  himself.  "It  is  the  last 
place  and  the  strongest  feeling.  They  are  fools  who 
tell  us  that  years  make  us  indifferent.  If  I  had  come 
across  her  at  the  other  end,"  he  glanced  back  along  the 
galley,  "at  the  beginning  of  my  life,  when  I  yet  looked 
longingly  at  the  roses  on  the  cheeks  of  maidens  and 
was  touched  by  the  song  of  hedge-sparrows,  would 
such  a  woman  then  have  preserved  in  me  what  I  have 
lost  forever?  Useless  thoughts  of  the  past!  I  must 
in  the  present  keep  firm  hold  of  what  has  come  within 
the  reach  of  my  hand.  She  is  indifferent  about  the 
weak  youth;  but  she  feels  herself  uneasy  here,  and  if 
she  tries  to  escape  me  I  have  no  power  to  keep  her 
back.  I  remain  alone;  daily  the  same  wearisome 
faces,  whose  thoughts  one  knows  before  they  are 
spoken,  whose  wishes  one  knows  before  they  open 
their  mouths,  and  whom  one  sees  to  be  prepared  with 
feigned  feelings.  Whatever  wit  or  will  they  have 
works  secretly  against  me;  what  I  receive  from  them 
is  only  the  artificial  glitter  of  life.  It  is  sad  to  be  a 
master  before  whom  living  souls  turn  into  machines, 
and  year  after  year  to  open  the  lid  and  examine  the 
works.  I  myself  have  made  them,"  he  said,  jeeringly, 
"but  I  am  weary  of  my  work." 

"I  know  that  the  doubt  arises  often  in  my  mind," 
the  Sovereign  murmured,  "whether  my  unhappy  skill 
has  made  them  lies  of  human  nature,  or  whether  I 
myself  am  an  automaton,  which  when  wound  up  nods 
and  repeats  the  same  gracious  words  without  thought. 
I  know  there  are  hours  when  I  am  ashamed  of  myself, 
when  I  strut  about  the  stage  as  a  clown  or  a  bully;  I 
see  the  wires  that  move  my  joints;  I  feel  a  de- 
sire to  place  my  own  head  in  the  vice  in  order 
to  improve  what  is  faulty  in  it,  and  I  see  a  large 


VEXATIONS.  255 

chest  open  into  which  I  am  thrown  when  my  role  is 
played  out." 

"Oh,"  he  groaned,  from  the  depths  of  his  heart. 
"  I  know  that  I  am  a  reality,  if  not  by  day,  yet  at  night. 
None  of  those  about  me  are  tormented  in  lonely  hours 
as  I  am;  their  temples  do  not  beat  with  fever  heat 
when  they  lie  down  after  their  day's  work. 

"What  pleasure  have  I  amidst  these  dull  tapestry- 
rooms,  or  among  the  old  pictures  of  Mother  Nature? 
Laughing  without  amusement,  angry  about  trifles, — • 
everything  cold,  indifferent,  and  soulless! 

"It  is  only  in  rare  moments,  when  I  have  been 
with  her,  that  I  feel  like  another  man;  then  the  warm 
blood  courses  through  my  veins.  When  in  her  honest 
simplicity  she  talks  of  all  that  she  loves  and  takes 
pleasure  in,  a  woman  with  a  child's  heart,  then  I  be- 
come young  again  like  her.  She  talked  to  me  of  her 
brother  'curly-head.'  I  see  the  boy  before  me,  a  lively 
lad,  with  his  sister's  eyes.  I  see  the  little  simpleton 
eating  his  bread  and  butter,  and  it  moves  me  as  if  I 
were  reading  a  touching  story.  I  long  to  catch  up  the 
boy  in  my  arms  as  if  he  belonged  to  me. 

"She  herself  is  true  and  upright;  it  is  a  pure  mind, 
and  beneath  her  calm  gentleness  strong  passion  lies 
concealed.  What  a  passion  she  fell  into  when  my 
messenger  offered  her  the  patent  of  nobility!  She  is  a 
woman  to  live  with  whom  is  worth  some  trouble,  and 
to  gain  whom  a  man  would  do  much. 

"  But  what  can  I  do?  What  I  can  give  her  will  be 
of  little  value  to  her;  what  I  take  from  her — how  will 
she  make  up  her  mind  to  that?"  He  looked  timidly  at 
the  empty  place  on  the  wall.  "Another  picture  was 
to  have  hung  there,"  he  exclaimed;  "why  is  it  not 
there?  Why  does  the  remembrance  of  one  long  gone 


256  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

lie  on  my  brain  like  a  stone,  the  pressure  of  which  I 
feel  every  day  when  mingling  among  men,  and  every 
night  when  I  rest  my  weary  head  upon  my  hands? 
That  woman  slept  many  years  ago  in  the  same  room 
where  now  the  stranger  reposes;  she  did  not  awake, 
as  it  would  have  been  right  for  her  to  have  done;  when 
she  did  awake  and  came  to  consciousness,  a  spring 
broke  in  her  weak  mind,  and  she  remained  a  soulless 
body." 

A  feverish  shudder  passed  through  him;  he  shook 
himself  and  rushed  out  of  the  gallery,  looked  shyly 
behind  him,  and  closed  the  door. 

"The  violence  of  passion  is  extinguished,"  he  con- 
tinued, after  a  time;  "with  years  one  becomes  more 
cautious.  I  will  hold  her  fast,  whatever  may  be  the 
result;  it  is  no  longer  the  burning  glow  of  youth,  it  is 
the  heart  of  a  ripened  man  that  I  offer  to  her.  With 
firm  patience  will  I  await  what  time  prepares  for  me; 
slowly  will  this  fruit  ripen  in  the  warm  sun.  I  shall 
persevere,  but  I  will  hold  her  fast.  Her  husband  is 
becoming  suspicious  about  her;  it  was  an  awkward 
excuse  that  he  invented;  he  also  is  struggling  out  of 
my  hand.  I  must  keep  her,  and  only  childish  means 
can  be  used  for  these  childlike  hearts." 

The  bell  rang,  the  servant  entered,  and  received  an 
order. 

Magister  Knips  appeared  before  the  Sovereign;  his 
cheeks  were  flushed,  and  vehement  excitement  worked 
in  his  eatures. 

"Have  you  read  the  memorial  which  Professor 
Werner  has  written  concerning  the  manuscript?" 
asked  the  Sovereign,  carelessly.  "What  is  your  opin- 
ion of  it?" 

"It  is  a  prodigious,  astounding  account,  Most  Gra- 


VEXATIONS.  257 

cious  Prince  and  Sovereign.  I  may  well  say  that  I 
feel  this  discovery  in  all  my  limbs.  If  the  manuscript 
should  be  found,  the  fame  attending  the  discovery  will 
be  imperishable;  it  would  be  discussed  in  the  preface 
of  every  edition  in  which  the  question  of  the  manu- 
script occurred,  to  the  end  of  the  world;  it  would  raise 
the  learned  man  to  whose  lot  this  greatest  earthly  good 
fortune  should  fall,  high  above  his  fellow  mortals.  Your 
exalted  Highness  also,  according  to  Act  22,  §  127,  of 
the  law  of  the  country,  would  undoubtedly  have  the 
first  right  to  the  discovered  treasure,  and  his  High- 
ness would  be  hailed  among  all  people  as  the  protec- 
tor of  a  new  era  of  knowledge  concerning  the  Ro- 
mans." 

The  Sovereign  listened  with  satisfaction  to  the  en- 
thusiasm of  the  Magister,  who  in  his  excitement  for- 
got his  humble  bearing,  and  pathetically,  stretched  out 
his  arm  in  the  direction  in  which  he  saw  the  radiant 
crown  hovering  above  the  head  of  the  Sovereign. 

"All  this  would  occur  if  one  found  the  treasure," 
said  the  Sovereign;  "but  it  is  not  yet  found." 

Knips  collapsed. 

"  Undoubtedly  it  is  presumptuous  to  think  that 
such  a  happiness  could  fall  to  the  lot  of  any  human 
being,  yet  it  would  be  a  sin  to  doubt  its  possibility." 

"  Professor  Werner  seems  to  attach  much  value  to 
the  discovery,"  rejoined  the  Sovereign,  indifferently. 

"  He  could  not  be  a  man  of  sterling  judgment  who 
did  not  feel  the  importance  of  this  gain  as  much  as 
does  your  Highness's  most  humble  servant  and  slave." 

The  Sovereign  interrupted  the  speaker. 

"Mr.  Von  Weidegg  has  proposed  to  you  to  remain 
in  my  service.  Have  you  agreed  to  do  so?" 

"With  the  feelings  of  a  rescued  man,"   exclaimed 


258  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

Knips,  "who  ventures  to  lay  at  your  Highness's  feet 
thanks  and  blessing  with  unbounded  veneration." 

"  Have  you  already  engaged  yourself?" 

"In  the  most  binding  way." 

"Good,"  said  the  Sovereign,  stopping  the  stream 
of  the  Magister's  respectful  assurances  by  a  motion  of 
his  hand.  "  It  has  been  reported  to  me,  Magister  that 
you  have  a  special  good  fortune  in  finding  such  rarities 
— good  fortune,"  repeated  the  Sovereign,  "or  what 
comes  to  the  same  thing,  skill.  Do  you  seriously  be- 
lieve that  these  indistinct  traces  will  lead  to  the  lost 
treasure?" 

"Who  can  now  maintain  that  such  a  discovery  is 
impossible?"  cried  the  Magister.  "  If  I  might  be  al- 
lowed, with  the  deepest  respect,  to  express  my  views, 
which  burst  forth  from  my  heart  like  a  cry  of  joy,  it  is, 
I  dare  not  say  probable,  but  yet  not  improbable,  that 
an  accident  might  lead  to  it.  Yet  if  I  may  venture  re- 
spectfully to  express  my  experience,  which  perhaps 
is  only  a  superstition,  if  the  manuscript  be  found,  it 
will  not  be  found  where  one  expects,  but  somewhere 
else.  Hitherto  whenever  in  my  humble  existence  I 
have  had  the  good  fortune  of  making  a  discovery — I 
mention  only  the  Italian  Homer  of  1848 — it  has  always 
been  contrary  to  all  anticipations;  and  what  your  most 
exalted  Grace  calls  my  skill  is — if  I  must  explain  the 
secret  of  my  good  fortune — really  nothing  but  the  cir- 
cumstance that  I  have  generally  sought  where,  ac- 
cording to  human  probability,  no  treasure  could  be 
supposed  to  lie." 

"The  views  which  you  entertain  are  certainly  not 
solacing  for  an  impatient  person,"  said  the  Sover- 
eign, "for  that  may  last  a  long  time." 

"Generations  may  pass  away,"  replied  Knips,  "but 


VEXATIONS.  259 

the  present  and  the  future  will  search  until  the  manu- 
script be  found." 

"  That  is  but  poor  comfort,"  said  the  Sovereign, 
laughing;  "  and  I  confess,  Magister,  you  disappoint 
by  these  words  the  lively  expectation  which  I  cher- 
ished, that  your  dexterity  and  skill  would  soon  obtain 
for  me  the  pleasure  of  seeing  the  book  in  the  hands 
of  the  Professor — the  book  itself,  or  at  least  some  pal- 
pable proof  of  its  existence.  I  am  a  layman  in  all 
these  things,  and  can  form  no  judgment  of  the  import- 
ance which  you  attach  to  the  discovery.  To  me  at 
present  it  is  only  to  play  off  a  joke,  or — to  repeat  the 
words  which  you  lately  used  with  respect  to  your  min- 
iatures— only  for  the  sake  of  raillery." 

The  expression  and  manner  of  the  Magister  altered 
gradually,  as  if  under  the  spell  of  an  enchanter  ;  he 
shrank  into  himself,  laid  his  head  on  his  shoulder,  and 
looked  with  a  terrified  eagerness  at  the  Sovereign. 

"  In  short,  I  wish  that  Mr.  Werner  should  soon  be 
put  upon  a  certain  trace  of  the  manuscript,  if  it  is  not 
possible  to  obtain  the  manuscript  itself." 

Knips  remained  silent,  staring  at  the  speaker. 

"I  desire  you,"  continued  the  Sovereign,  emphat- 
ically, "  to  employ  the  talent  you  have  already  shown 
for  this  object.  Your  help  must,  of  course,  remain  my 
secret,  for  I  should  like  Mr.  Werner  to  have  the  pleas- 
ure of  making  the  discovery  himself." 

"It  must  be  a  large  manuscript,"  stammered  out 
Knips. 

"I  fear,"  replied  the  Sovereign,  carelessly,  "it 
must  long  have  been  torn  to  pieces.  It  is  not  impos- 
sible that  some  scattered  leaves  may  have  been  pre- 
served somewhere." 

The  Magister  stood  thunderstruck. 


260  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

"  It  is  difficult  to  satisfy  the  Professor." 

"So  much  the  greater  will  be  your  merit  and  re- 
ward." 

Knips  remained  silent,  in  a  state  of  terror. 

"  Has  your  confidence  vanished,  Magister?"  said 
the  Sovereign,  ironically.  "  It  is  not  the  first  time  that 
you  have  succeeded  in  such  a  discovery."  He  ap- 
proached closer  to  the  little  man.  "I  know  something 
of  former  trials  of  your  dexterity,  and  I  have  no  doubt 
of  the  comprehensiveness  of  your  talent." 

Knips  started,  but  still  he  remained  speechless. 

"  For  the  rest,  I  am  contented  with  your  activity," 
continued  the  Sovereign,  in  a  changed  voice.  "  I  do 
not  doubt  that  you  will  in  many  ways  know  how  to 
make  yourself  useful  to  the  officials  of  my  Court,  and 
thereby  consult  your  own  future  interest." 

"What  high  honor!"  said  Knips,  pitifully,  drawing 
out  his  pocket-handkerchief. 

"As  regards  the  lost  manuscript,"  continued  the 
Sovereign,  "  the  stay  of  Mr.  Werner  will,  I  fear,  be 
only  temporary.  The  task  of  pursuing  the  investiga- 
tions in  our  country  would,  in  that  event,  fall  upon 
you." 

Knips  raised  his  head,  and  a  ray  of  pleasure  passed 
over  his  troubled  face. 

"If  the  manuscript  is,  in  fact,  as  valuable  as  the 
learned  gentlemen  seem  to  think,  then  in  case,  after 
the  departure  of  the  Professor,  there  is  still  something 
to  discover,  you  will  have  found  with  us  an  occupa- 
tion which  is  especially  suited  to  you." 

"This  prospect  is  the  highest  and  most  honorable 
which  my  life  can  attain  to,"  replied  Knips,  more  cour- 
ageously." 

"Good,"    said   the    Sovereign;    "endeavor  to    de- 


VEXATIONS.  26l 

serve  this  claim,  and  try  first  what  your  dexterity  can 
do." 

"I  will  take  pains  to  serve  your  Highness,"  replied 
the  Magister,  his  eyes  cast  on  the  ground. 

Knips  left  the  private  apartment.  The  little  man, 
who  now  descended  the  staircase,  looked  very  differ- 
ent from  the  happy  Magister  who  a  few  minutes  before 
had  ascended  it.  His  pale  face  was  bent  forward,  and 
his  eyes  wandered  furtively  over  the  faces  of  the  ser- 
vants, who  watched  him  inquisitively.  He  seized  his 
hat  mechanically,  and  he,  the  Magister,  put  it  on  his 
head  while  still  in  the  royal  castle.  He  went  out  into 
the  court;  the  storm  swept  through  the  streets,  whirled 
the  dust  round  him.  and  blew  his  coat-tails  forward. 

"He  drives  me  on;  how  can  I  withstand  him?" 
murmured  Knips.  "Shall  I  return  to  my  proof-sheets 
in  that  cold  room?  Shall  I  all  my  life  depend  on  the 
favor  of  professors,  always  in  anxiety  lest  an  accident 
should  betray  to  these  learned  men  that  I  once  over- 
reached them  and  derided  them? 

"But  here  I  pass  a  pleasant  life,  and  have  oppor- 
tunities of  being  the  cleverest  among  the  ignorant  and 
making  myself  indispensable  to  them!  I  am  so  al- 
ready; the  Sovereign  has  shown  himself  to  me  as  one 
comrade  does  to  another,  and  he  can,  if  I  do  as  he 
wishes,  as  little  part  from  me  as  the  parchment  from 
the  writing  on  it." 

He  wiped  the  cold  sweat  from  his  brow. 

"  I  myself  will  find  the  manuscript,"  he  continued, 
more  confidently.  "  Jacobi  Knipsii  sollertia  inventum. 
I  know  the  great  secret,  and  I  will  search  day  by  day 
where  only  a  wood-louse  can  creep  or  a  spider  hang 
its  web.  Then  it  will  be  for  me  to  decide  whether  I  shall 
take  the  Professor  as  an  assistant  to  edit  it,  or  another. 


262  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

Perhaps  I  will  take  him  and  he  will  be  thankful  to  me. 
He  will  hardly  find  the  treasure,  he  is  too  dignified  to 
listen  and  to  spy  out  where  the  chests  are  concealed." 
The  Magister  hastened  his  steps;  the  wind  whist- 
led in  sharp  tones  behind  him, — it  tore  from  the  trees 
the  dry  leaves  of  the  last  year,  and  scattered  them  on 
the  hat  of  the  little  man.  The  dust  whirled  more  rap- 
idly round  him;  it  covered  the  dark  Court  dress  with 
a  pale  grey  coating,  it  pursued  and  enveloped  him, 
so  that  the  foliage  of  the  trees  and  the  figures  of  men 
disappeared  from  his  sight,  and  he  hastened  onward 
wrapped  in  a  cloud  of  dust  and  dead  leaves.  Again 
he  raised  his  pocket-handkerchief,  sighed,  and  wiped 
the  perspiration  from  his  temples. 

CHAPTER  XXXI. 
HUMMEL'S  TRIUMPH. 

THERE  was  a  lowering  sultriness  in  nature,  and 
also  in  the  busy  world  of  men.  The  barometer  fell 
suddenly;  thunder  and  hail  coursed  over  the  country; 
confidence  was  gone,  stocks  became  worthless  paper; 
lamentation  followed  arrogance;  water  stood  in  the 
streets;  and  the  straw  hats  disappeared  as  if  wafted 
away  by  the  storm. 

Whoever  in  these  changing  times  might  wish  to 
observe  Mr.  Hummel  in  a  good-humored  frame  of 
mind  must  do  so  in  the  afternoon  before  three  o'clock, 
when  he  opened  his  garden  door  and  seated  himself 
near  the  hedge.  During  this  hour  he  gave  audience 
to  benevolent  thoughts;  he  listened  to  the  striking  of 
the  city  clock,  and  regulated  his  watch;  he  read  the 
daily  paper,  counted  the  regular  promenaders,  who 
daily  walked  at  the  same  hour  to  the  wood  and  back 


HUMMEI/S    TRIUMPH.  263 

again  to  the  city,  and  he  accosted  his  acquaintances 
and  received  their  greetings.  These  acquaintances 
were  for  the  most  part  householders,  hard-headed  men, 
members  of  the  city  commissions,  and  councillors. 

To-day  he  was  sitting  at  the  open  door,  looking 
proudly  at  the  opposite  house,  in  which  some  secret 
commotion  was  perceptible;  he  examined  the  passers- 
by,  and  returned  with  dignity  the  bows  and  greetings 
of  the  citizens.  The  first  acquaintance  was  Mr.  Wen- 
zel,  a  gentleman  of  means,  and  his  sponsor,  who  for 
many  years  had  taken  a  constitutional  every  day,  sum- 
mer and  winter,  through  the  meadows  to  get  into  per- 
spiration. It  was  the  one  steady  business  of  his  life, 
and  he  talked  of  little  else. 

"  Good  day,  Hummel." 

"Good  day,  Wenzel.  Any  success  to-day?"  asked 
Mr.  Hummel. 

"Pretty  fair,  only  it  took  a  long  time,"  said  Mr. 
Wenzel,  "but  I  must  not  stop.  I  only  wanted  to  ask 
you  how  things  are  going  with  him  over  the  way?" 

"Why  that?"  asked  Hummel,  annoyed. 

"Do  you  not  know  that  his  book-keeper  has  disap- 
peared?" 

"What!"  exclaimed  Mr.  Hummel. 

"They  say  he  has  speculated  on  the  stock  ex- 
change, and  escaped  to  America.  But  I  must  be  off; 
good  day." 

Mr.  Wenzel  hastily  departed. 

Mr.  Hummel  remained  in  a  state  of  great  aston- 
ishment. He  heard  the  voice  of  the  city-councillor 
calling  out: 

"Good  day,  Mr.  Hummel — a  warm  day — 90  degrees 
in  the  shade.  Have  you  heard?"  he  said,  pointing  with 
his  stick  to  the  neighboring  house. 


264  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

"Nothing,"  cried  Hummel;  "one  lives  in  this  place 
like  in  a  prison.  Whether  it  is  fire,  pestilence,  or  the 
arrival  of  high  personages,  it  is  only  by  pure  accident 
one  hears  of  it.  What  is  all  this  about  the  absconding 
book-keeper?" 

"It  appears  that  your  neighbor  placed  too  much 
confidence  in  the  man,  and  he  has  secretly  used  the 
name  of  his  employer  in  some  mad  speculations,  and 
fled  last  night.  They  say  it  is  to  the  amount  of  forty 
thousand." 

"Then  Hahn  is  ruined,"  said  Hummel,  "irredeem- 
ably. I  am  not  surprised  at  it;  the  fellow  has  always 
been  impractical." 

"  Perhaps  things  are  not  so  bad,"  said  the  coun- 
cillor, as  he  left  him. 

Mr.  Hummel  remained  alone  with  his  thoughts. 
"Naturally."  He  said  to  himself,  "It  was  inevitable. 
In  everything,  high-flown — houses,  windows,  and  gar- 
den fancies — never  any  rest;  the  man  is  gone  out  like 
a  candle." 

He  forgot  the  passers-by,  and  moved  backwards 
and  forwards  on  his  main  walk,  looking  sometimes 
with  curiosity  at  the  hostile  house.  "Out  like  a  can- 
dle," he  repeated,  with  the  satisfaction  of  a  tragic 
actor  who  endeavors  to  give  the  most  terrific  expres- 
sion to  the  telling  words  of  his  role.  He  had  vexed 
himself  half  a  century  about  that  man;  before  his  dis- 
position to  corpulency  had  begun,  he  had  despised 
this  man's  ways  and  business.  This  feeling  had  been 
his  daily  entertainment;  it  was  one  of  his  daily  neces- 
sities, like  his  boot-jack  and  his  green  boat.  Now  the 
hour  was  come  when  fate  paid  off  the  man  over  the 
way  for  having  injured  Mr.  Hummel  by  his  presence 
in  life.  Hummel  looked  at  the  house  and  shrugged 


HUMMEL'S  TRIUMPH.  265 

his  shoulders;  the  man  who  had  placed  that  deformed 
structure  before  his  eyes  was  now  in  danger  of  being 
driven  out  of  it.  He  looked  at  the  temple  and  the 
muse;  this  toy  of  the  poor  devil  would  soon  be  torn 
down  by  some  stranger.  Hummel  went  to  the  sitting- 
room;  there  also  he  walked  up  and  down,  and  told  his 
wife  of  Mr.  Hahn's  misfortune  in  short  sentences.  He 
observed,  out  of  the  corners  of  his  eyes,  that  Mrs.  Phi- 
lippine hastened,  nervously,  to  the  sofa,  and  frequently 
clasped  her  hands;  and  that  Laura  rushed  into  the 
next  room,  and  could  not  refrain  from  bursting  into 
tears;  and  he  repeated,  with  dreadful  satisfaction,  the 
terrible  words:  "He  has  gone  out  like  a  candle." 

He  behaved  in  the  same  way  at  the  factory;  he 
paced  slowly  up  and  down  the  warehouse,  looked  ma- 
jestically on  a  heap  of  hareskins,  took  one  of  the  finest 
hats  out  of  a  bandbox,  held  it  towards  the  window, 
gave  it  a  stroke  with  the  brush,  and  muttered  again: 
"  It's  all  up  with  him."  To-day  his  book-keeper,  for 
the  first  time  in  his  life,  was  late  at  his  desk:  he  had 
heard  of  the  misfortune  on  his  way;  he  related  it  in 
an  excited  manner  to  his  principal,  and  finally  ma- 
liciously repeated  the  unfortunate  words:  "  It's  all  up 
with  him."  Hummel  gave  him  a  piercing  look,  and 
snorted  so  that  the  timid  heart  of  the  clerk  sank  within 
him. 

"Do  you  wish  also  to  become  manager  of  mybusiness 
like  that  runaway?  I  thank  you  for  this  proof  of  your 
confidence.  I  have  no  use  for  such  bandit-like  pro- 
ceedings; I  am  my  own  manager,  sir,  and  I  object  to 
every  kind  of  secret  dealing  behind  my  back." 

"But,  Mr.  Hummel,  I  have  carried  on  no  secret 
dealings." 

"The  devil  thank  you  for  that,"  roared  out   Hum- 


266  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

mel,  in  his  fiercest  bass.  "There  is  no  more  confi- 
dence on  earth:  nothing  is  firm;  the  holiest  relations 
are  unscrupulously  violated;  one  can  no  longer  trust 
one's  friends;  now  even  one's  enemies  make  off.  At 
night  you  lie  down  to  sleep  quietly  as  a  German,  and 
in  the  morning  you  wake  up  as  a  Frenchman;  and  if 
you  sigh  for  your  German  coffee,  your  hostess  brings 
a  dish  of  Parisian  spinach  to  your  bed.  I  should  be 
glad  to  learn  of  you  on  what  spot  of  this  earth  we  are 
now  settled." 

'•'In  Valley  Row,  Mr.  Hummel." 

"There  the  last  remains  of  our  good  genius  spoke 
out.  Look  through  the  window.  What  stands  there?" 
pointing  to  the  neighboring  house. 

"Park  Street,  Mr.  Hummel." 

"Indeed?"  asked  Hummel,  ironically.  "Since  pri- 
meval times,  since  your  ancestors  sat  on  the  trees 
here  nibbling  beechmast,  this  place  has  been  called 
Valley  Row.  In  this  valley  I  laid  the  foundations  of  my 
house,  and  enclosed  in  the  wall  an  inscription  for  later 
excavators:  'Henry  Hummel,  No.  i.'  Now  the  ma- 
chinations of  yonder  extinguished  straw-man  have  up- 
set this  truth.  In  spite  of  my  protest  in  court,  we 
have  become  transformed  into  park  denizens  by  a  po- 
lice ordinance.  Scarcely  has  this  happened,  when  that 
man's  book-keeper  transforms  himself  into  an  Ameri- 
can. Do  you  believe  that  Knips,  junior,  this  sala- 
mander, would  have  ventured  on  this  misdeed  if 
his  own  principal  had  not  set  him  the  example? 
There  you  have  the  consequences  of  everlasting 
changes  and  improvements.  For  twenty  years  we 
have  gone  on  together,  but  I  believe  now  you  are  cap- 
able of  throwing  up  your  place  and  entering  into 


HUMMEL'S  TRIUMPH.  267 

another  business.     Bah,  sir!  you  ought  to  be  ashamed 
of  your  century." 

It  was  a  sorrowful  day  for  the  Hahn  family.  The 
master  of  the  house  had  gone  to  his  office  in  the 
city  at  the  usual  hour  in  the  morning,  and  had  awaited 
his  book-keeper  in  vain.  When  at  last  he  sent  to  the 
young  man's  dwelling,  the  porter  brought  back  word 
that  the  former  had  departed,  and  left  a  letter  on  his 
table  for  Mr.  Hahn.  Hahn  read  the  letter,  and  sank 
down  upon  his  desk  with  sudden  terror.  He  had  al- 
ways carried  on  his  business  like  an  honest  tradesman. 
He  had  begun  with  small  means,  and  had  become  a 
well  to  do  man  by  his  own  energy;  but  he  had  confided 
his  money  matters  more  to  his  clever  clerk  than  was 
prudent.  The  young  man  had  grown  up  under  his 
eyes,  and  had  gradually,  by  his  pliant,  zealous  service, 
won  full  confidence,  and  had  shortly  before  been 
granted  the  right  of  signing  the  name  of  the  firm  to 
financial  obligations.  The  new  manager  had  suc- 
cumbed to  the  temptations  of  these  turbulent  times 
and  had,  unknown  to  his  principal,  ventured  on  rash 
speculations.  In  the  letter  he  made  open  confession. 
He  had  stolen  a  small  sum  for  his  flight:  but  Mr. 
Hahn  would  on  the  following  day  have  to  meet  his 
losses  to  the  amount  of  about  twenty  thousand  thalers. 
The  thunder-bolt  fell  from  a  clear  heaven  into  the 
peaceful  life  of  the  merchant.  Mr.  Hahn  sent  for  his 
son.  The  doctor  hastened  to  the  police-office,  to  his 
solicitor,  and  to  his  business  friends,  and  returned 
again  to  the  office  to  comfort  his  father,  who  sat  as 
if  paralyzed  before  his  desk,  hopelessly  looking  into 
the  future. 

Dinner-time    came,    when  Mr.   Hahn  must  impart 
his  misfortune  to  his  wife,  and  there  was  lamentation 


268  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

within  the  house.  Mrs.  Hahn  went  distractedly  through 
the  rooms,  and  Dorothy  wrung  her  hands  and  cried. 
In  the  afternoon  the  Doctor  again  hastened  to  his  ac- 
quaintances and  to  money-lenders;  but  during  this 
week  there  was  a  panic,  every  one  mistrusted  the 
other.  Money  was  scarce,  and  the  Doctor  found  noth- 
ing but  sympathy,  and  complaints  of  the  fearful 
times.  The  flight  of  the  book-keeper  made  even  con- 
fidential friends  suspicious  as  to  the  extent  of  the  ob- 
ligations of  the  firm.  Even  by  a  mortgage  on  the 
house,  with  the  greatest  sacrifice,  no  sufficient  sum 
could  be  obtained.  The  danger  was  more  threaten- 
ing every  hour,  the  anguish  greater.  Towards  even- 
ing the  Doctor  returned  home  to  his  parents  after  his 
last  fruitless  expedition.  To  his  father  he  had  shown 
a  cheerful  countenance,  and  comforted  him  bravely; 
but  the  thought  was  incessantly  present  to  his  mind, 
that  this  misfortune  would  divide  him  utterly  from 
his  loved  one.  Now  he  sat  weary  and  alone  in  the 
dark  sitting-room,  and  looked  towards  the  lighted 
windows  of  the  neighboring  houses. 

He  well  knew  that  one  friend  would  not  fail  his 
father  in  distress.  But  the  Professor  was  at  a  distance, 
and  any  help  he  could  give  would  be  insufficient;  at 
the  best  it  would  come  too  late.  There  were  only  a 
few  hours  before  the  decisive  moment.  The  interven- 
ing time,  one  of  rest  for  all  others,  was  one  of  endless 
torture  to  his  father,  in  which  he  contemplated,  with 
staring  eyes  and  feverish  pulse,  a  hundred-fold  the 
bitterness  of  the  ensuing  day,  and  the  son  was  terri- 
fied at  the  effect  which  the  dreadful  strain  would  have 
on  the  sensitive  nature  of  his  father. 

There  was  a  slight  rustle  in  the  dark  room — a 
light  figure  stood  beside  the  Doctor.  Laura  seized 


HUMMEL'S  TRIUMPH.  269 

his  hand  and  held  it  fast  within  hers.  She  bent  down 
to  him,  and  looked  in  his  sorrowful  countenance. 
"I  have  felt  the  anxiety  of  these  hours.  I  can  no 
longer  bear  solitude,"  she  said,  gently.  "  Is  there  no 
help?'" 

"  I  fear,  none." 

She  stroked  his  curly  hair  with  her  hand. 

"You  have  chosen  it  as  your  lot  to  despise  what 
others  so  anxiously  desire.  The  light  of  the  sun,  which 
illumines  your  brow,  should  never  be  darkened  by 
earthly  cares.  Be  proud,  Fritz;  you  have  never  had 
cause  to  be  more  so  than  at  this  hour,  for  such  a  mis- 
fortune cannot  rob  you  of  anything  that  is  worth  a 
pang." 

"My  poor  father!"  cried  Fritz. 

"Yet  your  father  is  happy,"  continued  Laura,  "for 
he  has  brought  up  a  son  to  whom  it  is  scarcely  a  sac- 
rifice to  be  deprived  of  what  appears  to  other  men  the' 
highest  happiness.  For  whom  had  your  dear  parents 
amassed  money  but  for  you?  Now  you  may  show 
them  how  free  and  great  you  rise  above  these  anxi- 
eties for  perishable  metal." 

"If  I  feel  the  misfortune  of  this  day  to  my  own 
life,"  said  the  Doctor,  "  it  is  only  for  the  sake  of  an- 
other." 

"If  it  could  comfort  you,  my  friend,"  exclaimed 
Laura,  with  an  outburst  of  feeling,  "  I  will  tell  you  to- 
day that  I  hold  true  to  you,  whatever  may  happen." 

"Dear  Laura!"  cried  the  Doctor. 

Her  voice  sang  softly  in  his  ear  like  a  bird: 

"I  am  glad,  Fritz,  that  you  care  for  me." 

Fritz  laid  his  cheek  tenderly  on  her  hand. 

"I  will  endeavor  not  to  be  unworthy  of  you,"  con- 
tinued Laura.  "  I  have  long  tried  in  secret  all  that  I, 


270  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

a  poor  maiden,  can  do,  to  free  myself  from  the  trivial 
follies  that  trouble  our  life.  I  have  considered  fully 
how  one  can  keep  house  with  very  little,  and  I  no 
longer  spend  money  on  useless  dress  and  such  rub- 
bish. I  am  anxious  also  to  earn  something.  I  give 
lessons,  Fritz,  and  people  are  satisfied  with  me.  One 
requires  little  to  live  upon,  I  have  found  that  out.  I 
have  no  greater  pleasure  in  my  room  than  the  thought 
of  making  myself  independent.  That  is  what  I  have 
wished  to  express  briefly  to  you  to-day.  One  thing 
more,  Fritz;  if  I  do  not  see  you,  I  always  think  of  and 
care  about  you." 

Fritz  stretched  out  his  arms  towards  her,  but  she 
withdrew  herself  from  him,  nodded  to  him  once  more 
at  the  door,  then  flew  swiftly  across  the  street  back  to 
her  attic  room. 

There  she  stood  in  the  dark  with  beating  heart;  a 
pale  ray  of  light  gleamed  through  the  window  and 
lighted  up  the  shepherd  pair  on  the  inkstand,  so  that 
they  seemed  to  hover  illuminated  in  the  air.  This  day 
Laura  did  not  think  of  her  secret  diary,  she  looked 
towards  the  window  where  her  loved  one  sat,  and 
again  tears  gushed  from  her  eyes;  but  she  composed 
herself  with  quick  decision,  fetched  a  light  and  a  jug 
of  water  from  the  kitchen,  collected  her  lace  collars 
and  cuffs  and  soaked  them  in  a  basin — she  could  do 
all  this  herself  too.  It  was  another  little  saving,  it 
might  sometime  be  of  use  to  Fritz. 

Mr.  Hummel  closed  his  office  and  continued  to 
rove  about.  The  door  of  Laura's  room  opened,  the 
daughter  shrank  within  herself  when  she  saw  her  fa- 
ther cross  the  threshold  solemnly,  like  a  messenger  of 
Fate.  Hummel  moved  towards  his  daughter  and 
looked  sharply  at  her  weeping  eyes. 


HUMMEL'S  TRIUMPH.  271 

"On  account  of  him  over  the  way,  I  suppose." 
Laura  hid  her  face  in  her  hands,  again  her  sorrow 
overpowered  her. 

"There  you  have  your  little  bells,"  he  grumbled  in 
a  low  tone.  "There  you  have  your  pocket-handker- 
chiefs and  your  Indians.  It  is  all  over  with  the  people 
there."  He  slapped  her  on  the  shoulder  with  his 
large  hand.  "  Be  quiet.  We  are  not  responsible  for 
his  ruin;  your  pocket-handkerchiefs  prove  nothing." 

It  became  dark;  Hummel  walked  up  and  down 
the  street  between  the  two  houses,  looking  at  the  hos- 
tile dwelling  from  the  park  side,  where  it  was  less  ac- 
cessible to  him,  and  his  broad  face  assumed  a  trium- 
phant smile.  At  last  he  discovered  an  acquaintance 
who  was  hastening  out  of  it,  and  followed  him. 

"What  is  the  state  of  the  case?"  he  asked,  seizing 
the  arm  of  the  other.  "  Can  he  save  himself?" 

His  business  friend  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"It  cannot  remain  a  secret,"  he  said,  and  explained 
the  situation  and  danger  of  the  adversary. 

"Will  he  be  able  to  procure  money  to  meet  it?" 

The  other  again  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"Hardly  to-morrow.  Money  is  riot  to  be  had  at 
any  price.  The  man  is  of  course  worth  more;  the 
business  is  good,  and  the  house  unencumbered." 

"The  house  is  not  worth  twenty  thousand,"  inter- 
posed Hummel. 

"No  matter;  in  a  sound  state  of  the  money  market 
he  would  bear  the  blow  without  danger,  now  I  fear 
the  worst." 

"I  have  said  it,  he  has  gone  out  like  a  candle," 
muttered  Hummel,  and  abruptly  turned  his  steps  to- 
wards his  house. 

In  the   Doctor's  room  father  and  son  were  sitting 


272  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

over  letters  and  accounts,  the  light  of  the  lamp  shone 
on  the  gilded  titles  of  the  books  against  the  wall,  and 
the  portfolios  containing  the  treasures  industriously 
collected  by  the  Doctor  from  all  corners  of  the  world, 
and  bound  up  and  placed  here  in  grand  array — now 
they  were  again  to  be  dispersed.  The  son  was  en- 
deavoring to  inspire  his  despairing  father  with  courage. 

"If  the  misfortune  cannot  be  prevented  which  has 
come  upon  us  like  a  hurricane,  we  must  bear  it  like 
men:  you  can  save  your  honor.  The  greatest  sorrow 
that  I  feel  is  that  I  can  now  be  of  so  little  use  to  you, 
and  that  the  advice  of  every  man  of  business  is  of 
more  value  than  the  help  of  your  own  son." 

The  father  laid  his  head  on  the  table,  powerless 
and  stupefied. 

The  door  opened,  and  from  the  dark  hall  a  strange 
form  entered  the  room  with  heavy  steps.  The  Doctor 
sprang  up  and  stared  at  the  hard  features  of  a  well- 
known  face.  Mr.  Hahn  uttered  a  shriek  and  rose 
hastily  from  the  sofa  to  leave  the  room. 

"Mr.  Hummel!"  exclaimed  the  Doctor,  alarmed. 

"Of  course,"  replied  Hummel;  "it  is  I,  who  else 
should  it  be?"  He  laid  a  packet  on  the  table.  "Here 
are  twenty  thousand  thalers  in  certified  City  Bonds, 
and  here  is  a  receipt  for  you  both  to  sign.  To-morrow 
you  shall  give  a  mortgage  for  it  upon  your  house:  the 
papers  must  be  repaid  in  kind,  for  I  do  not  mean  to 
lose  by  it,  exchange  is  too  bad  now.  The  mortgage 
shall  run  for  ten  years,  in  order  that  you  may  not 
think  I  wish  to  take  your  house;  you  can  pay  me  back 
when  you  please,  the  whole  at  once,  or  by  degrees.  I 
know  your  business,  no  money  can  now  be  obtained 
upon  your  straw;  but  in  ten  years  the  loss  may  be  re- 
covered. I  make  only  one  condition,  that  no  human 


HUMMEL'S  TRIUMPH.  273 

being  shall  know  of  this  loan,  least  of  all  your  wife, 
and  my  wife  and  daughter.  For  this  I  have  good  rea- 
sons. Do  not  look  at  me  as  the  cat  looks  at  the  king," 
he  continued,  turning  to  the  Doctor.  "  Set  to  work, 
count  the  bonds  and  note  their  numbers.  Make  no 
speeches,  I  am  not  a  man  of  sentiment,  and  figures  of 
rhetoric  are  no  use  to  me.  I  think  of  my  security  also. 
The  house  is  scarcely  worth  twenty  thousand  thalers, 
but  it  satisfies  me.  If  you  should  wish  to  carry  it  off  I 
should  see  it.  You  have  taken  care  that  it  should  be 
near  enough  to  my  eyes.  Now  count,  please,  and  sign 
the  receipt,  Doctor,"  he  said,  authoritatively,  pushing 
him  down  on  his  chair. 

"Mr.  Hummel,"  began  Hahn,  somewhat  indis- 
tinctly, for  it  was  difficult  for  him  to  speak  in  his  emo- 
tion, "I  shall  never  forget  this  hour  to  the  end  of  my 
life."  He  wished  to  go  up  to  him  and  give  him  his 
hand,  but  the  tears  streamed  from  his  eyes  and  he  was 
obliged  to  cover  his  face  with  his  pocket-handker- 
chief. 

Be  seated,"  said  Hummel,  pushing  him  down  on 
the  sofa;  "steadiness  and  stoicism  are  always  the  main 
thing;  they  are  better  than  Chinese  toys.  I  shall  say 
nothing  further  to-day,  and  you  must  say  nothing  to 
me  of  this  occurrence.  To-morrow  everything  will  be 
made  smooth  before  the  notary  and  the  registrar,  and 
interest  must  be  punctually  paid,  quarterly;  for  the 
rest,  our  relation  to  each  other  remains  the  same.  For, 
you  see,  we  are  not  merely  men,  we  are  also  business 
people.  As  a  man,  I  well  know  what  are  your  good 
points,  even  when  you  complain  of  me.  But  our 
houses  and  our  business  do  not  agree.  We  have  been 
opponents  twenty  years,  felt  against  straw,  with  our 
hobbies  and  our  trellis-work  fences.  That  may  remain 


274  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

so;  what  is  not  harmonious  need  not  harmonise. 
When  you  call  me  bristles  and  felt,  I  will.be  coarse  to 
you,  and  I  will  consider  you  as  a  straw  blockhead  as 
often  as  I  am  angry  with  you.  But  with  all  that,  we 
may  have,  as  now,  private  business  together;  and  if 
ever,  which  I  hope  will  never  happen,  robbers  should 
plunder  me,  you  will  do  for  me  as  much  as  you  can., 
This  I  know  and  have  always  known,  and  therefore  I 
am  come  to  you  to-day." 

Hahn  gave  him  a  look  of  warm  gratitude,  and 
again  raised  his  pocket-handkerchief. 

Hummel  laid  his  hand  heavily  upon  his  head,  as 
with  a  little  child  and  said,  gently,  "You  are  a  vision- 
ary, Hahn.  The  doctor  is  ready  now;  sign,  and  do  not 
either  of  you  take  this  misfortune  too  much  to  heart. 
There,"  he  continued,  strewing  sand  over  the  paper 
carefully,  "to-morrow,  about  nine  o'clock,  I  will  send 
my  solicitor  to  your  office.  Stay  where  you  are;  the 
staircase  is  badly  lighted,  but  I  shall  find  my  way. 
Good  night." 

He  entered  the  street,  and  looked  contemptuously 
at  the  hostile  walls.  "No  mortgage?"  he  muttered. 
"H.  Hummel,  first  and  last,  twenty  thousand."  At 
home  he  vouchsafed  some  comforting  words  to  his 
ladies.  "I  have  heard  that  the  people  there  will  be 
able  to  pull  through,  so  I  forbid  further  lamenting.  If 
ever,  in  conformity  with  miserable  fashion,  you  should 
need  a  straw  hat,  you  may  take  your  money  rather  to 
the  Hahns  than  to  others;  I  give  my  permission." 

Some  days  after  Fritz  Hahn  entered  the  small  office 
of  Mr.  Hummel.     The   latter  motioned   to   his   book- 
keeper to  withdraw,  and  began,  coolly,  from  his  arm 
chair,  "What  do  you  bring  me,  Doctor?" 

"My  father  feels  it  a  duty  to  meet  the  great  confi- 


HUMMEL'S  TRIUMPH.  275 

dence  that  you  have  shown  him,  by  giving  you  an 
insight  into  the  state  of  his  business,  and  begs  you  to 
assist  him  in  his  arrangements.  He  is  of  opinion,  that 
until  this  disastrous  affair  has  passed  over,  he  should 
do  nothing  important  without  your  assent." 

Hummel  laughed.  "What!  I  am  to  give  advice, 
and  that  too,  in  the  management  of  your  business? 
You  would  put  me  in  a  position  that  is  preposterous, 
and  one  against  which  I  protest." 

The  Doctor  silently  placed  before  him  a  statement 
of  assets  and  liabilities. 

"You  are  a  sharp  customer,"  cried  Hummel,  "but 
for  an  old  fox  this  trap  is  not  cunningly  enough  laid." 
With  that  he  looked  at  the  credit  and  debit,  and 
took  a  pencil  in  his  hand.  "Here  I  find  among  the 
assets  five  hundred  thalers  for  books  that  are  to  be 
sold.  I  did  not  know  that  your  father  had  this  hobby 
also." 

"They  are  my  books,  Mr.  Hummel.  I  have  of  late 
years  spent  more  money,  upon  these  than  was  absolutely 
necessary  for  my  work.  I  am  determined  to  sell  what 
I  can  do  without;  a  book-dealer  has  already  offered  to 
pay  this  sum  in  two  instalments." 

'•'The  sheriff  is  never  allowed  to  levy  on  instruments 
of  trade,"  said  Hummel,  making  a  stroke  through  that 
entry  in  the  ledger.  "I  believe,  indeed,  that  they  are 
unreadable  stuff,  but  the  world  has  many  dark  corners; 
and  as  you  have  a  fancy  to  be  an  anomalous  dick  among 
your  fellows,  you  shall  remain  in  your  hole."  He  re- 
garded the  Doctor  with  an  ironical  twinkle  in  his  eye. 
"Have  you  nothing  further  to  say?  I  do  not  mean 
with  reference  to  your  father's  business,  I  have  nothing 
further  to  do  with  that,  but  upon  another  subject, 
which  you  yourself  seem  to  carry  on;  from  your  move- 


276  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

ments  of  late  you  evidently  wish  to  associate  yourself 
with  my  daughter  Laura?" 

The  Doctor  colored.  "I  should  have  chosen  another 
day  for  the  declaration  which  you  now  demand  of  me. 
But  it  is  my  anxious  wish  to  come  to  an  understanding 
with  you  concerning  it.  I  have  long  entertained  a 
secret  hope  that  time  would  lessen  your  aversion  to 
me." 

"Time?"  interrupted  Hummel;  "that's  absurd." 

"Now  by  the  noble  assistance  which  you  have  ex- 
tended to  my  father,  I  am  placed  in  a  position  towards 
you  which  is  so  painful  to  me  that  I  must  beg  of  you 
not  to  refuse  me  your  sympathy.  With  strenuous  ex- 
ertion and  fortunate  circumstances  it  would  now  be 
years  before  I  could  acquire  a  position  to  maintain  a 
wife." 

"Starving  trade,"  interposed  Mr.  Hummel,  in  a 
grumbling  tone. 

"I  love  your  daughter  and  I  cannot  sacrifice  this 
feeling.  But  I  have  lost  the  prospect  of  offering  her 
a  future  which  could  in  some  measure  answer  to  what 
she  is  entitled  to  expect;  and  the  helping  hand  which 
you  have  extended  to  my  father  makes  me  so  depend- 
ent on  you  that  I  must  avoid  what  would  excite  your 
displeasure.  Therefore  I  see  a  desolate  future  before 
me." 

"Exactly  as  I  prophesied,"  replied  Mr.  Hummel, 
"wretched  and  weak." 

The  Doctor  drew  back,  but  at  the  same  time  he 
laid  his  hand  on  his  neighbor's  arm.  "This  manner  of 
language  will  serve  you  no  longer,  Mr.  Hummel,"  said 
he  smiling. 

"Noble,  but  abject,"  repeated  Hummel  with  satis- 
faction. "You  should  be  ashamed,  sir;  do  you  pretend 


HUMMEL'S  TRIUMPH.  277 

to  be  a  lover?  You  wish  to  know  how  to  please  my 
daughter  Laura,  such  an  evasive,  forlorn  specimen  as 
you?  Will  you  regulate  your  feelings  according  to 
my  mortgage?  If  you  are  in  love,  I  expect  that 
you  should  conduct  yourself  like  a  rampant  lion, 
jealous  and  fierce.  Bah,  sir!  you  are  a  beautiful 
Adonis  to  me,  or  whatever  else  that  fellow  Nicode- 
mus  was  called.". 

"Mr.  Hummel,  I  ask  for  your  daughter's  hand," 
cried  the  Doctor. 

"I  refuse  it  you,"  cried  Hummel.  "You  mistake  my 
words.  I  do  not  think  of  throwing  my  daughter  into 
this  bargain  also.  But  you  must  not  misunderstand 
my  refusal  to  give  you  my  daughter;  your  duty  is  to 
pursue  her  more  fiercely  than  ever.  You  must  attack 
me,  and  force  yourself  into  my  house;  in  return  for 
which  I  reserve  to  myself  the  right  to  show  you  the 
way  out.  But  I  have  always  said  it,  you  are  wanting 
in  courage." 

"Mr.  Hummel,"  replied  the  Doctor,  with  dignity, 
"allow  me  to  remark  that  you  should  no  longer  be  on 
the  offensive  with  me." 

"Why  not?"  asked  Hummel. 

The  Doctor  pointed  to  the  papers. 

"What  has  happened  in  this  matter  makes  it  diffi- 
cult for  me  to  use  strong  language  to  you.  It  can  be 
no  pleasure  to  you  to  attack  one  who  cannot  defend 
himself." 

"These  pretentious  are  really  ridiculous,"  replied 
Hummel.  "Because  I  have  given  you  my  money  must 
I  cease  to  treat  you  as  you  deserve?  Because  you, 
perhaps,  are  not  disinclined  to  marry  my  daughter,  am 
I  to  stroke  you  with  a  velvet  brush?  Did  one  ever 
hear  such  nonsense?" 


278  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

"You  mistake,"  continued  the  Doctor,  civilly,  "if 
you  think  that  I  am  not  in  a  position  to  answer  what 
you  say.  I  therefore  do  myself  the  honor  of  remark- 
ing to  you  that  your  mockery  is  so  wounding  that  even 
the  kindness  you  have  shown  loses  its  value." 

"Have  done  with  your  kindness — it  was  only  kind- 
ness from  revenge." 

"Then  I  will  as  honestly  tell  you,"  continued  the 
Doctor,  "that  it  was  a  very  bitter  hour  to  me  when  you 
entered  our  house.  I  knew  how  oppressive  the  obli- 
gation which  you  then  conferred  upon  us  would  be  for 
the  rest  of  my  life.  But  I  looked  at  my  poor  father, 
and  the  thought  of  his  misery  closed  my  mouth.  For 
my  own  part,  I  would  rather  have  begged  my  bread 
than  taken  your  money." 

"Go  on,"  cried  Hummel. 

"What  you  have  done  for  my  father  does  not  give 
you  a  right  to  ill-treat  me.  This  conversation  strength- 
ens me  in  the  conviction  that  I  have  had  from  the 
outset,  that  we  must  exert  ourselves  to  the  utmost 
to  repay  you  the  money  we  have  received,  as  soon  as 
possible.  You  have  crossed  out  the  item  in  which 
I  credited  my  books,  but  I  shall  sell  them." 

"Nonsense!"  exclaimed  Hummel. 

"I  shall  do  it,  however  insignificant  the  sum  may 
be  in  comparison  with  our  debt,  because  the  tyranny 
which  you  wish  to  exercise  over  me  threatens  to  be- 
come insupportable.  I  at  least  will  not  be  indebted  to 
you  in  this  way." 

"Yet  y  ;>u  wish  it  in  another  way  that  suits  you 
better." 

"Yes,"  replied  the  Doctor.  "As  you  have  so  con- 
temptuously rejected  the  greatest  sacrifice  I  could 
make,  I  shall  continue  to  woo  your  daughter,  even 


HUMMEL'S  TRIUMPH.  279 

against  your  will.  I  shall  endeavor  to  speak  to  her 
whenever  I  can,  and  to  make  myself  as  acceptable  to 
her  as  is  possible  in  my  position.  You  yourself  have 
shown  me  this  way.  You  will  therefore  be  satisfied  if 
I  enter  upon  it,  and  if  you  are  not,  I  shall  pay  no*  re- 
gard to  your  displeasure." 

"At  last,"  cried  Hummel,  "it  all  comes  to  light.  I 
see  now  that  you  have  some  fire  in  you;  therefore  we 
will  talk  quietly  over  this  business.  You  are  not  the 
husband  whom  I  could  have  wished  for  my  daughter. 
I  have  kept  you  away  from  my  house,  but  it  has  been 
of  no  use,  for  a  cursed  sentiment  has  arisen  between 
you;  I  therefore  intend  now  to  carry  on  the  affair  dif- 
ferently. I  shall  not  object  to  you  coming  to  my  house 
sometimes.  I  depend  upon  your  doing  it  with  discre- 
tion. I  will  ignore  your  presence,  and  my  daughter 
shall  have  an  opportunity  of  seeing  how  you  compare 
with  the  four  walls.  We  will  both  await  the  result." 

"I  do  not  agree  to  this  proposal,"  replied  the  Doc- 
tor. "I  do  .not  expect  that  you  should  give  me  your 
daughter's  hand  now,  and  I  only  accept  the  entrance 
into  your  family  on  condition  that  you  yourself  will 
treat  me  as  becomes  a  guest  in  your  house,  and  that 
you  will  perform  the  duties  of  a  friendly  host.  I  can- 
not surfer  that  you  should  speak  to  me  in  the  way  you 
have  done  in  our  conversation  to-day.  Any  insult, 
either  by  words  or  by  neglect,  I  will  not  bear  from  you. 
I  am  not  only  desirous  to  please  your  daughter,  but 
also  to  be  agreeable  to  yourself.  For  that  I  demand 
opportunity.  If  you  do  not  agree  to  this  condition,  I 
prefer  not  to  come  at  all." 

"Humboldt,  do  not  undertake  too  much  at  once," 
replied  Mr.  Hummel,  shaking  his  head,  "for  you  see 
I  esteem  you,  but  I  really  do  not  like  you.  Therefore 


280  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

I  will  consider  how  far  I  can  make  myself  pleasant  to 
you;  I  assure  you  it  will  be  hard  work.  Meanwhile, 
take  these  papers  with  you.  Your  father  has  bought 
the  lesson,  that  he  should  himself  look  after  his  own 
money  affairs.  For  the  rest,  matters  are  not  in  a  bad 
state,  and  he  will  be  able  to  help  himself  out  of  it;  you 
do  not  need  either  me  or  another.  Good  morning, 
Doctor." 

The  doctor  took  the  papers  under  his  arm. 

"I  beg  you  to  shake  hands,  Mr.  Hummel." 

"Not  so  hastily,"  replied  Hummel. 

"I  am  sorry  for  it,"  said  the  Doctor,  smiling,  "  but 
I  cannot  be  denied  to-day." 

"Only  from  innate  politeness,"  rejoined  Hummel, 
"not  from  good  will." 

He  held  out  his  large  hand  to  him. 

"Keep  your  books,"  he  cried  out,  to  the  departing 
visitor.  "I  can  see  through  that  scheme,  you  will  buy 
them  again,  and  then  I  shall  have  to  pay  for  them 
anyhow." 

CHAPTER  XXXII. 
A  CHAPTER  FROM  TACITUS. 

TOBIAS  BACHHUBER!  when  your  sponsors  concluded 
that  you  should  be  called  Tobias  they  did  bad  service 
to  you  and  your  descendants.  For  he  who  bears  that 
name  is  by  fate  subjected  to  experiences  that  do 
not  fall  to  the  lot  of  more  favorably  named  men.  Who 
ever  passed  so  miserable  a  honey-moon  as  Tobias 
the  younger,  the  poor  son  of  the  blind  man?  For 
was  he  not  obliged  to  fast,  and  to  struggle  with  a 
murderous  spirit  just  at  a  time  when  a  spiritual  strug- 
gle would  be  highly  disagreeable  to  any  mortal?  Even 


A    CHAPTER    FROM    TACITUS.  281 

you,  blessed  Bachhuber,  have  bitterly  experienced  the 
misfortune  of  your  name.  Whether  the  fatal  war. 
with  Sweden  may  have  arisen  because  the  Swedes  han- 
kered after  your  manuscript,  will  not  be  discussed 
here;  it  is  to  be  hoped  that  new  historical  investiga- 
tions may  yet  bring  this  secret  motive  of  action  to  light. 
But  it  cannot  be  denied  that  you  yourself  suffered  la- 
mentably in  the  war,  and  the  curse  of  your  name  still 
clings  to  the  treasure  which  you  concealed.  All  who 
have  anything  to  do  with  it  have  their  eyes  blinded, 
and  an  evil  spirit  destroys  their  hopes. 

The  Professor  also  was  tormented  with  this  blind- 
ness, and  troubled  by  the  demon.  He  had  found 
nothing.  Many  would  have  been  weary  and  given  it 
up,  but  his  eagerness  only  increased,  for  he  did  not, 
by  any  means,  search  heedlessly;  he  knew  very  well 
that  the  discovery  depended  on  a  long  chain  of  acci- 
dents which  were  beyond  all  calculation.  But  he 
wished  to  do  all  in  his  power;  his  task  was  to  give 
assurance  to  the  learned  of  the  world  that  the  archives, 
collections,  and  inventories  of  the  Sovereign  had  been 
thoroughly  examined.  This  certainty  at  least  he  could 
obtain  better  than  any  one  else,  and  he  would  thus  do 
his  duty  both  to  the  Sovereign  and  to  Learning.  But 
his  impatience  became  more  eager,  and  the  cheerful 
excitement  he  felt  at  first  increased  to  uncomfortable 
agitation;  constant  disappointment  disturbed  his  daily 
frame  of  mind.  He  often  sat  lost  in  thought,  nay,  he 
was  always  speaking  of  the  treasure,  and  Use  could 
not  please  him;  her  objections  and  even  her  consola- 
tion wounded  him,  for  he  was  very  much  vexed  that 
she  did  not  partake  of  his  zeal.  He  knew  accurately 
what  would  be  the  appearance  of  the  manuscript — a 
large,  thick  quarto,  very  old  characters,  perhaps  of  the 


282  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

sixth  century,  much  faded,  and  many  leaves  half  de- 
stroyed, for  he  could  not  conceal  from  himself  that  the 
mischievous  spirit  of  the  times,  water  and  the  rats, 
might  have  made  havoc  with  it. 

One  day  the  Professor  entered  the  Princess's  study 
with  heightened  color. 

"At  last  I  can  bring  you  a  good  report.  In  a  small 
bundle  of  deeds  in  the  Marshal's  office,  which  had 
hitherto  unaccountably  escaped  me,  I  have  found  a 
lost  entry  on  a  single  sheet.  The  chests  which  the 
official  at  Bielstein  sent  in  the  beginning  of  the  last 
century  to  the  vanished  castle  are  briefly  designated 
as  numbers  one  and  two,  with  a  remark  that  they  con- 
tained besides  old  cross-bows,  arrows,  &c.,  manuscripts 
of  the  monastery  of  Rossau.  Thus,  there  were  two 
chests  with  manuscripts  of  the  monastery  in  them." 

The  Princess  looked  with  curiosity  at  the  sheet 
which  he  laid  before  her. 

"It  was  high  time  that  this  account  should  come 
to  light,"  continued  the  Professor,  gaily;  "for  I  con- 
fess to  your  Highness  that  the  phantom  pursued  me 
day  and  night.  This  is  a  valuable  confirmation  that  I 
am  on  the  right  path." 

"Yes,"  cried  the  Princess,  "I  am  convinced  we 
shall  find  the  treasure.  If  I  could  but  help  you  a  little. 
If  it  could  be  obtained  by  magic,  I  would  gladly  put 
on  my  magic  girdle  and  call  upon  Lady  Hecate.  Un- 
fortunately this  mode  of  calling  spirits  to  one's  aid  is 
out  of  date,  and  it  is  difficult  to  learn  the  secret  art  by 
which  learned  gentlemen  unearth  their  treasures." 

"  I  also  am  now  little  better  than  a  wretched  exor- 
cist," answered  the  Professor.  "  It  would  be  a  bad 
recommendation  for  me  if  your  Highness  were  to 
judge  of  my  work  by  what  I  have  achieved  here  in 


A    CHAPTER    FROM    TACITUS.  283 

stirring  up  the  old  dust.  One  is  delighted  and  dis- 
appointed, like  a  child.  It  is  fortunate  that  fate  does 
not  often  tease  us  book-writers  with  such  tricks; 
what  we  .do  for  the  benefit  of  others  does  not  depend 
upon  accidental  discoveries." 

"  I  can  form  an  idea  of  the  seriousness  of  the  work 
which  I  do  not  see,"  exclaimed  the  Princess.  "  Your 
kindness  has  opened  at  least  an  aperture  through 
which  I  can  look  into  the  workshop  of  creative  minds. 
I  can  understand  that  the  labor  of  learned  men  must 
have  an  irresistible  attraction  for  those  who  belong 
to  that  silent  community.  I  envy  the  women  whose 
happiness  it  is  to  live  their  whole  lives  within  the 
sphere  of  such  occupations." 

"  We  are  bold  conquerors  at  the  writing-table," 
answered  the  Professor;  "but  the  incongruity  between 
our  inward  freedom  and  outward  helplessness  is  often 
felt  by  the  conqueror  and  those  about  him.  They  who 
really  pass  their  lives  with  us  may  easily  fathom  us, 
and  can  with  difficulty  bear  our  one-sidedness.  For, 
your  Highness,  learned  men  themselves  are  like  the 
books  they  write.  In  general  we  are  badly  prepared 
for  the  whirl  of  business,  and  sometimes  helpless  in 
the  manifold  activity  of  our  time.  We  are  true  friends 
to  men  in  those  hours  in  which  they  seek  new  strength 
for  the  struggle  of  life,  but  in  the  struggle  itself  we 
are  generally  unskilful  assistants." 

"  Are  you  thinking  of  yourself  in  speaking  thus  ?  " 
asked  the  Princess,  quickly. 

"  I  had  in  my  mind  a  picture  of  the  combined 
traits  of  many  of  my  fellow-workers,  but  if  your  High- 
ness inquires  about  myself,  I  also  am  in  this  respect  a 
regular  man  of  learning.  For  I  have  often  had  oppor- 
tunity of  remarking  how  imperfect  is  my  judgment  on 


284  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

all  questions  in  which  my  learning  or  my  moral  feel- 
ing do  not  give  me  assurance." 

"I  do  not  like  that,  Mr.  Werner,"  cried  the  Prin- 
cess, leaning  gravely  back  in  her  arm-chair.  "  My 
fancy  took  its  highest  flight ;  I  sat  as  sovereign  of 
the  world,  prepared  to  make  my  people  happy,  and  I 
made  you  my  minister  of  state." 

"  Your  confidence  gives  me  pleasure,"  replied  the 
Professor;  "  but  if  your  Highness  should  ever  be  in 
the  position  to  seek  for  an  assistant  in  government,  I 
could  not  accept  this  dignity  with  a  good  conscience 
unless  your  Highness's  subjects  had  all  been  passed 
through  the  bookbinder's  press,  and  wore  little  coats 
of  pasteboard,  and  had  on  their  backs  labels  that  told 
the  contents  of  each." 

The  Princess  laughed,  but  her  eyes  rested  with 
deep  feeling  on  the  honest  countenance  of  the  man. 
She  rose  and  approached  him. 

"  You  are  always  true,  open,  and  high-minded." 

"  Thanks  for  your  judgment,"  replied  the  Professor, 
much  pleased.  "  Even  your  Highness  treats  me  like 
a  spirit  that  dwells  in  a  book;  you  praise  me  as  openly 
as  if  I  did  not  understand  the  words  that  you  speak. 
I  beg  permission  to  convey  to  your  Highness  my  feel- 
ings also  in  a  review." 

"  What  I  am  like,  I  do  not  wish  to  hear  from  you," 
exclaimed  the  Princess;  "  for  you  would,  in  spite  of 
the  harmlessness  which  you  boast  of,  end  by  reading 
me  as  plainly  as  if  I  had  a  morocco-covered  back  and 
gilt  edges.  But  I  am  serious  when  I  praise  you.  Yes, 
Mr.  Werner,  since  you  have  been  with  us  I  have  at- 
tained to  a  better  understanding  of  the  value  of  life. 
You  do  not  know  what  an  advantage  it  is  for  me  to 
have  intercourse  with  a  mind  which,  undisturbed  by 


A    CHAPTER    FROM    TACITUS.  285 

the  little  trifles  around  it,  only  serves  its  high  goddess 
Oi  Truth.  The  turmoil  of  daily  life  bears  hard  upon 
us,  and  perplexes  us;  those  by  whom  I  am  surrounded, 
even  the  best  of  them,  all  think  and  care  about  them- 
selves, and  make  convenient  compacts  between  their 
feeling  of  duty  and  their  egotism.  But  in  you  I  per- 
ceive unselfishness  and  the  incessant  devotion  of  your- 
self to  the  highest  labor  of  man.  There  is  something 
great  and  lofty  in  this  that  overpowers  me  with  ad- 
miration. I  feel  the  worth  of  such  an  existence,  like 
a  new  light  that  penetrates  my  soul.  Never  have  I 
known  any  one  about  me  so  inspired  with  heaven  in 
his  breast.  That  is  my  review  of  you,  Professor  Wer- 
ner; it  is,  perhaps,  not  well  written,  but  it  comes  from 
my  heart." 

The  eyes  of  the  learned  man  shone  as  he  looked  at 
the  enthusiastic  countenance  of  the  princely  child, 
but  he  was  silent.  There  was  a  long  pause.  The 
Princess  turned  away,  and  bent  over  her  books.  At 
last  she  began,  with  gentle  voice: 

"  You  are  going  to  your  daily  work,  I  will  do  so 
also.  Before  you  leave  me,  I  beg  of  you  to  be  my 
instructor:  I  have  marked  a  place  in  the  work  no  art 
that  you  had  the  kindness  to  bring  from  the  library, 
which  I  could  not  quite  understand." 

The  Professor  took  the  open  book  from  her  hand, 
and  laughed. 

"  This  is  the  theory  of  quite  a  different  art;  it  is 
not  the  right  book." 

The  Princess  read,  "  How  to  make  blanc-mange." 
She  opened  the  title  page:  "Common-sense  cook-book 
of  an  old  Nuremberg  cook."  She  turned  the  book 
round  with  astonishment;  it  was  the  same  simple 
binding. 


286  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

"  How  does  this  come  here?  "  she  exclaimed,  with 
vexation,  and  rang  for  her  maid. 

"  No  one  has  been  here,"  said  the  latter,  "  except 
the  Princes,  a  short  time  ago." 

"  Ah!  "  exclaimed  the  Princess,  depressed.  "  Then 
there  is  no  hope.  We  are  now  under  the  dominion  of 
a  mischievous  spirit,  and  must  wait  till  our  book  re- 
turns. Farewell,  Mr.  Werner;  if  the  mischievous 
spirit  restores  me  the  book  I  shall  call  you  back." 

When  the  Professor  had  taken  leave,  the  maid 
came  back  alarmed  and  brought  the  lost  Archaeology 
in  a  sad  condition.  The  book  was  in  the  cage  of  the 
monkey.  Giocco  had  studied  it  industriously,  and 
was  furious  when  the  volume  was  taken  away  from 
him. 

At  the  same  hour  the  Chamberlain  was  standing 
before  the  Sovereign. 

"  Your  friends  from  the  University  have  domesti- 
cated themselves  with  us;  I  take  for  granted  that  you 
have  done  your  best  to  make  our  city  agreeable  to 
them." 

"  Professor  Werner  appears  well   contented,"  re 
plied  the  Chamberlain,  with  reserve. 

"  Has  your  sister  Malwine  made  the  acquaintance 
of  the  Professor's  wife?  " 

"  Unfortunately  my  sister  has  been  obliged  to  nurse 
a  sick  aunt  in  the  country." 

"  That  is  a  pity,"  replied  the  Sovereign;  "  she  may 
have  reason  to  regret  this  accident.  Some  time  ago 
you  expressed  your  opinion  that  some  practical  occu- 
pation would  be  beneficial  to  the  Hereditary  Prince; 
I  have  considered  the  matter.  It  will  be  necessary  to 
find  the  means  of  a  temporary  residence  in  the  district 
of  Rossau.  The  old  forester's  lodge  will  not  be  ill  ad- 


A    CHAPTER    FROM    TACITUS.  287 

apted  to  it.  I  have  determined  by  additional  build- 
ing to  change  the  house  into  a  habitable  residence. 
The  Hereditary  Prince  must  be  on  the  spot  to  plan 
the  building  according  to  his  wishes,  and  you  will 
accompany  him.  The  architect  has  orders  to  draw 
the  plans  according  to  the  Prince's  directions.  I  only 
wish  to  speak  to  him  about  the  proposed  estimate. 
Meanwhile  the  Hereditary  Prince  will  occupy  the 
rooms  that  are  reserved  for  me  in  the  forester's  lodge. 
But  as  the  building  will  not  take  up  his  whole  time, 
he  may  employ  his  leisure  in  obtaining  an  insight  into 
our  agricultural  methods,  at  the  farm  of  the  adjoining 
proprietor.  He  should  learn  about  field-work  and 
book-keeping.  The  year  is  already  far  advanced, 
which  makes  a  speedy  departure  advisable.  I  hope 
this  arrangement  will  meet  a  wish  that  you  have  long 
entertained.  The  beautiful  country  and  the  quiet  wood 
will  be  a  refreshment  to  you  after  your  winterwork." 

The  Chamberlain  bowed  dismayed  before  his  mas- 
ter, who  so  graciously  pronounced  his  banishment 
from  Court.  He  hastened  to  the  Hereditary  Prince 
and  related  the  bad  tidings. 

"  It  is  exile!"  he  exclaimed,  beside  himself. 

"  Make  your  preparations  speedily,"  replied  the 
Hereditary  Prince  quietly.  "  I  am  prepared  to  go  at 
once." 

The  Hereditary  Prince  went  to  his  father. 

"  I  will  do  what  you  command,  and  make  every 
effort  to  please  you.  If  you,  as  a  father,  consider  this 
residence  in  a  distant  place  useful,  I  feel  that  you  un- 
derstand better  than  I  what  will  be  beneficial  for  my 
future.  But,"  he  continued,  with  hesitation,  "I  cannot 
go  from  here  without  making  a  request  which  I  have 
much  at  heart." 


288  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

"  Speak,  Benno,"  said  the  Sovereign,  graciously. 

"  I  beg  of  you  to  permit  the  Professor  and  his  wife 
to  depart  as  quickly  as  possible  from  the  neighborhood 
of  the  Court." 

"  Why  so  ?  "  asked  the  Sovereign  sharply. 

"  Their  residence  here  is  hurtful  to  Mrs.  Werner. 
Her  reputation  is  endangered  by  the  unusual  position 
in  which  she  is  placed.  I  owe  him  and  her  great  grat- 
itude; their  happiness  is  a  matter  of  concern  to  me, 
and  I  am  tormented  by  the  thought  that  their  stay  in 
our  parts  threatens  to  disturb  the  peace  of  their  life." 

"  And  why  does  your  gratitude  fear  a  disturbance 
of  the  happiness  that  is  so  dear  to  you?  "  asked  the 
Sovereign. 

"  It  is  said  that  the  Pavillion  is  a  fateful  residence 
for  an  honorable  woman,"  replied  the  Hereditary 
Prince,  decidedly. 

"  If  what  you  call  honor  is  endangered  by  her 
dwelling  there,  then  that  virtue  is  easily  lost,"  said  the 
Sovereign,  bitterly. 

"  It  is  not  the  dwelling  alone,"  continued  the  He- 
reditary Prince;  "  the  ladies  of  the  Court  have  been 
quite  reserved  in  their  conduct  toward  her;  she  is  ill 
spoken  of:  gossip  and  calumny  are  busy  in  fabricating 
a  false  representation  of  her  innocent  life." 

"  I  hear  with  astonishment,"  said  the  Sovereign, 
"  the  lively  interest  you  take  in  the  stranger;  yet,  if  I 
am  rightly  informed,  you  yourself  during  this  time 
have  shown  her  little  chivalrous  attention." 

"  I  have  not  done  so,"  exclaimed  the  Hereditary 
Prince,  "  because  I  have  felt  myself  bound  to  avoid, 
at  least  so  far  as  I  was  concerned,  any  conduct  that 
might  injure  her.  I  saw  the  jeering  looks  of  our  gentle- 
men when  she  arrived;  I  heard  their  derogatory  words 


A    CHAPTER    FROM    TACITUS.  289 

about  the  new  beauty  who  was  shut  up  in  that  house, 
and  my  heart  beat  with  shame  and  anger.  Therefore 
I  have  painfully  controlled  myself;  I  have  feigned  in- 
difference before  those  about  me,  and  I  have  been  cold 
in  my  demeanor  towards  her;  but,  my  father,  it  has 
been  a  hard  task  to  me,  and  I  have  felt  deep  and 
bitter  anxiety  in  the  past  few  weeks;  for  the  happiest 
hours  of  my  life  at  college  were  passed  in  her  society." 

The  Sovereign  had  turned  away;  he  now  showed 
his  son  a  smiling  countenance. 

"  So  that  was  the  reason  of  your  reserve.  I  had 
forgotten  that  you  had  reached  the  age  of  tender  sus- 
ceptibility and  were  inclined  to  expend  more  emotion 
and  sentiment  on  your  relations  to  women  than  is  good 
for  you.  Yet  I  could  envy  you  this.  Unfortunately, 
life  does  not  long  retain  its  sensitive  feelings."  He 
approached  the  Prince,  and  continued,  good-humor- 
edly:  "  I  do  not  deny,  Benno,  that  in  your  interest  I 
regarded  the  arrival  of  our  visitors  differently.  For  a 
prince  of  your  nature  there  is  perhaps  nothing  so 
fraught  with  culture  as  the  tender  feeling  for  a  woman 
who  makes  no  demands  on  the  external  life  of  her 
friend,  and  yet  gives  him  all  the  charm  of  an  intimate 
union  of  soul.  Love  affairs  with  ladies  of  the  Court 
or  with  assuming  intrigants  would  be  dangerous  for 
you;  you  must  be  on  your  guard  that  the  woman  to 
whom  you  devote  yourself  will  not  trifle  with  you  and 
selfishly  make  use  of  you  for  her  own  ends.  From 
all  that  I  knew,  your  connection  with  the  lady  in  the 
Pavilion  was  just  what  would  be  advantageous  for 
your  future  life.  From  reasons  of  which  I  have  full 
appreciation,  you  have  avoided  accepting  this  idyllic 
relation.  You  yourself  have  not  chosen  what  I,  with 
the  best  intentions,  prepared  for  you;  it  seems  to  me, 


2QO  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

therefore,  that  you  have  lost  the  right  in  this  affair  to 
express  any  wishes  whatever." 

"  Father/'  exclaimed  the  Hereditary  Prince,  hor- 
rified, and  wringing  his  hands,  "  your  saying  this  to 
me  is  indeed  unkind.  I  had  a  dark  foreboding  that  the 
invitation  to  them  had  some  secret  object  in  view.  I 
have  struggled  with  this  suspicion,  and  blamed  myself 
for  it;  now  I  am  dismayed  with  the  thought  that  I  my- 
self am  the  innocent  cause  of  this  misfortune  to  these 
good  people.  Your  words  give  me  the  right  to  repeat 
my  request:  let  them  go  as  soon  as  possible,  or  you 
will  make  your  son  miserable." 

"  I  perceive  an  entirely  new  phase  of  your  charac- 
ter," replied  the  Sovereign;"  and  I  am  thankful  to  you 
for  the  insight  that  you  have  at  last  accorded  me  into 
your  silent  nature.  You  are  either  a  fantastical  dream- 
er, or  you  have  a  talent  for  diplomacy  that  I  have  never 
attributed  to  you." 

"  I  have  never  been  other  than  candid  to  you," 
exclaimed  the  Hereditary  Prince. 

"  Shall  the  lady  return  to  her  home  at  Bielstein  to 
be  saved?  "  asked  the  Sovereign  mockingly. 

"  No,"  replied  the  Hereditary  Prince,  in  a  low  tone. 

"  Your  demand  scarcely  deserves  an  answer,"  con- 
tinued the  father.  "  The  strangers  have  been  called 
here  for  a  certain  time.  The  husband  is  not  in  my 
service.  I  am  neither  in  a  position  to  send  them 
away,  as  they  have  given  me  no  reason  for  dissatisfac- 
tion, nor  to  keep  them  here  against  their  will." 

"  Forgive  me,  my  father,"  exclaimed  the  Heredi- 
tary Prince.  "  You  have  yourself,  by  the  gracious 
attention  which  you  daily  show  to  the  wife,  by  your 
civil  gifts  and  frequent  visits,  occasioned  the  Court  to 
think  that  you  take  a  special  personal  interest  in  her." 


A    CHAPTER    FROM    TACITUS.  2QI 

"  Is  the  Court  so  busy  in  reporting  to  you  what  I, 
through  the  unbecoming  conduct  of  others,  have 
thought  fit  to  do?  "  asked  the  Sovereign. 

"  Little  is  reported  to  me  of  what  those  about  us 
say,  and  be  assured  that  I  do  not  lend  a  ready  ear  to 
their  conjectures;  but  it  is  inevitable  that  I  sometimes 
must  hear  what  occupies  them  all  and  makes  them 
all  indignant.  They  venture  to  maintain  even,  that 
every  one  who  does  not  show  her  attention  is  in  dis- 
grace with  you;  and  they  think  that  they  show  special 
firmness  of  character  and  respectability  in  refusing  to 
be  civil  to  her.  You,  as  well  as  she,  are  threatened 
with  calumny.  Forgive  me,  my  father,  for  being  thus 
frank.  You  yourself  have  by  your  favor  brought  the 
lady  into  this  dangerous  position,  and  therefore  it  lies 
with  you  to  deliver  her  from  it." 

"  The  Court  always  becomes  virtuous  when  its 
master  selects  for  distinction  a  lady  who  does  not  be- 
long to  their  circle;  and  you  will  soon  learn  the  value 
of  such  strict  morals,"  replied  the  Sovereign.  "  It 
must  be  a  strong  sentiment,  Benno,  which  drives  your 
timid  nature  to  the  utmost  limits  of  the  freedom  of 
speech  that  is  allowable  from  a  son  to  a  father." 

The  pale  face  of  the  Hereditary  Prince  colored. 

"  Yes,  my  father,"  he  cried,  "  hear  what  to  every 
other  ear  will  remain  a  secret;  I  love  that  lady  with 
fervent  and  devoted  heart.  I  would  with  pleasure 
make  the  greatest  sacrifice  in  my  power  for  her.  I 
have  felt  the  power  that  the  beauty  and  innocence  of 
a  woman  can  exercise  on  a  man.  More  than  once 
have  I  strengthened  myself  by  contact  with  her  pure 
spirit.  I  was  happy  when  near  her,  and  unhappy 
when  I  could  not  look  into  her  eyes.  For  a  whole 
year  I  have  thought  in  secret  of  her,  and  in  this  sorrow- 


2Q2  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

ful  feeling  I  have  grown  to  be  a  man.  That  I  have 
now  courage  to  speak  thus  to  you,  I  owe  to  the  influ- 
ence which  she  has  exercised  upon  me.  I  know,  my 
father,  how  unhappy  such  a  passion  makes  one;  I 
know  the  misery  of  being  for  ever  deprived  of  the 
woman  one  loves.  The  thought  of  the  peace  of  her 
pure  soul  alone  has  sustained  me  in  hours  of  bitterness. 
Now  you  know  all.  I  have  confided  my  secret  to  you 
and  I  beg  of  you,  my  Sovereign  and  father,  to  receive 
this  confidence  with  indulgence.  If  you  have  hitherto 
cared  for  my  welfare,  now  is  the  time  when  you  can 
show  me  the  highest  proof  of  our  sincerity.  Honor 
the  woman  who  is  loved  by  your  unhappy  son." 

The  countenance  of  the  Sovereign  had  changed 
while  his  son  was  speaking,  and  the  latter  was  terrified 
at  its  menacing  expression. 

"  Seek,  for  your  tale,  the  ear  of  some  knight  errant 
who  eagerly  drinks  the  water  into  which  a  tear  of  his 
lady-love  has  dropped." 

"  Yes,  I  seek  your  knightly  help,  my  liege  and 
Sovereign,"  cried  the  Hereditary  Prince,  beside  him- 
self. "  I  conjure  you,  do  not  let  me  implore  you  in 
vain.  I  call  upon  you,  as  the  head  of  our  illustrious 
house,  and  as  a  member  of  the  order  whose  device  we 
both  wear,  to  do  a  service  to  me  and  for  her.  Do  not 
refuse  her  your  support  in  her  danger." 

"  We  are  not  attending  a  mediaeval  ceremony,"  re- 
plied the  Sovereign,  coldly,  "  and  your  speech  does 
not  acccrd  with  the  tone  of  practical  life.  I  have  not 
desired  your  confidence — you  have  thrust  it  upon  me 
in  too  bold  a  manner.  Do  not  wonder  that  your  father 
is  angry  with  your  presumtuous  speech,  and  that  your 
Sovereign  dismisses  you  with  displeasure." 

The  Hereditary  Prince  turned  pale  and  stepped  back. 


A    CHAPTER    FROM    TACITUS.  2Q3 

"  The  anger  of  my  father  and  the  displeasure  of 
my  Sovereign  are  misfortunes  which  I  feel  deeply; 
but  still  more  fearful  to  me  is  the  thought,  that  here 
at  Court  an  injury  is  done  to  an  innocent  person — an 
injury  in  which  I  must  have  a  share.  However  heav- 
ily your  anger  may  fall  upon  me,  yet  I  must  tell  you 
that  you  have  exposed  the  lady  to  misrepresentation, 
and  as  long  as  I  stand  before  you  I  will  repeat  it,  and 
not  desist  from  my  request  to  remove  her  from  here, 
for  the  sake  of  her  honor  and  ours." 

"  As  your  words  flutter  ceaselessly  about  the  same 
empty  phantom,"  replied  the  Sovereign,  "it  is  time  to 
put  an  end  to  this  conversation.  You  will  depart  at 
once,  and  leave  it  to  time  to  enable  me  to  forget,  if  I 
ever  can  do  so,  what  I  have  heard  from  you  to-day. 
Till  then  you  may  reflect  in  solitude  on  your  folly,  in 
wishing  to  play  the  part  of  guardian  to  strangers  who 
are  quite  in  a  position  to  take  care  of  themselves." 

The  Hereditary  Prince  bowed. 

"  Has  my  most  Sovereign  liege  any  commands  for 
me?  "  he  asked,  with  trembling  lips. 

The  Sovereign  replied  sullenly: 

"  It  only  remains  to  you  now  to  excite  the  ill-will 
of  the  strangers  against  your  father." 

"  Your  Highness  knows  that  such  conduct  would 
not  become  me." 

The  Sovereign  waved  his  hand,  and  his  son  de- 
parted with  a  silent  bow. 

Immediately  upon  quitting  the  apartment  of  the 
father,  the  Prince  ordered  his  carriage,  and  then  has- 
tened to  his  sister.  The  Princess  looked  anxiously 
into  his  disturbed  countenance. 

"You  are  going  away?"  she  exclaimed. 

"Farewell!"   he  said,  holding  out  his  hand  to  her. 


294  THE    LOST    MAJv?USCRIPT. 

"I  am  going  into  the  country  to  build  anew  castle  for 
us  in  case  we  should  wish  to  change  the  scene  of 
action." 

"When  do  you  return,  Benno?" 

The  Hereditary  Prince  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"When  the  Sovereign  commands.  My  task  is  now 
to  become  something  of  an  architect  and  farmer;  this 
is  a  useful  occupation.  Farewell,  Sidonie.  If'chance 
should  bring  you  together  with  Mrs.  Werner,  I  would 
be  greatly  indebted 'to  you  if  you  would  not  attend  to 
the  gossip  of  the  Court,  but  remember  that  she  is  a 
worthy  lady,  and  that  I  owe  her  a  great  debt  of  grati- 
tude." 

"Are  you  dissatisfied  with  me,  my  brother?"  asked 
the  Princess,  anxiously. 

"Make  reparation  for  it,  Siddy,  as  best  you  can. 
Farewell!" 

Prince  Victor  accompanied  him  to  the  carriage. 
The  Hereditary  Prince  clasped  his  hand,  and  looked 
significantly  towards  the  Pavilion.  Victor  nodded. 
"That's  my  opinion  too,"  he  said.  "Before  I  go  back 
to  my  garrison  I  will  visit  you  in  the  land  of  cat-tails. 
I  expect  to  find  you  as  a  brother  hermit,  with  a  long 
beard  and  a  cap  made  of  tree-bark.  Farewell,  Knight 
Toggenburg,  and  learn  there  that  the  best  phi- 
losophy on  earth  is  to  consider  every  day  as  lost  on 
which  one  cannot  do  some  foolish  trick.  If  one  does 
not  do  this  business  one's  self,  others  will  take  the 
trouble  off  one's  hands.  It  is  always  more  pleasant  to 

be  the  hammer  than  the  anvil." 

* 

*  * 

The  Sovereign  was  gloomy  and  silent  at  dinner; 
only  short  remarks  fell  from  his  lips,  and  sometimes  a 
bitter  jest,  from  which  one  remarked  that  he  was  striv- 


A    CHAPTER    FROM    TACITUS.  2Q5 

ing  for  composure;  the  Court  understood  that  this  un- 
pleasant mood  was  connected  with  the  departure  of 
the  Hereditary  Prince,  and  every  one  took  care  not  to 
irritate  him.  The  Professor  alone  was  able  to  draw 
a  smile  from  him,  when  he  good-humoredly  told  about 
the  enchanted  castle,  Solitude.  After  dinner  the  Sov- 
ereign conversed  with  one  of  his  aides-de-camp  as 
well  as  the  Professor.  The  latter  turned  to  the  High 
Steward;  and  although  he  usually  avoided  the  reserved 
politeness  of  the  man,  he  on  this  occasion  asked  him 
some  indifferent  questions.  The  High  Steward  an- 
swered civilly  that  the  Marshal,  who  was  close  by, 
could  give  him  the  best  information,  and  he  changed 
his  place.  Immediately  afterwards  the  Sovereign 
walked  straight  through  the  company  to  the  High 
Steward,  and  drew  him  into  the  recess  of  the  window, 
and  began: 

"You  accompanied  me  on  my  first  journey  to  Italy, 
and,  if  I  am  not  mistaken,  partook  a  little  of  my  fond- 
ness for  antiquities.  Our  collection  is  being  newly  ar- 
ranged and  a  catalogue  fully  prepared." 

The  High  Steward  expressed  his  acknowledgment 
of  this  princely  liberality. 

"Professor  Werner  is  very  active,"  continued  the 
Sovereign;  "it  is  delightful  to  see  how  well  he  under- 
stands to  arrange  the  specimens." 

The  High  Steward  remained  silent. 

"  Your  Excellency  will  remember  how  when  in  Italy 
we  were  much  amused  at  the  enthusiasm  of  collectors 
who,  luring  strangers  into  their  cabinets,  wildly  ges- 
ticulated and  rhapsodized  over  some  illegible  inscrip- 
tion. Like  most  other  men,  our  guest  is  also  afflicted 
with  a  hobby.  He  suspected  that  an  old  manu- 
script lay  concealed  in  a  house  in  our  principality; 


296  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

therefore  he  married  the  daughter  of  the  proprietor; 
and  as,  in  spite  of  that,  he  did  not  find  the  treasure,  he 
is  now  secretly  seeking  this  phantasm  in  the  old  gar- 
rets of  the  palace.  Has  he  never  spoken  to  you  of  it?" 

"I  have  as  yet  had  no  occasion  to  seek  his  confi- 
dence," replied  the  High  Steward. 

"Then  you  have  missed  something,"  continued  the 
Sovereign;  "in  his  way  he  speaks  well  and  readily 
about  it;  it  will  amuse  you  to  examine  more  closely 
this  species  of  folly.  Come  presently  with  him  into 
my  study." 

The  High  Steward  bowed;  and  on  the  breaking  up 
of  the  party,  informed  the  Professor  that  the  Sovereign 
wished  to  speak  to  him. 

The  gentlemen  entered  the  Sovereign's  apartment, 
in  order  to  afford  him  an  hour  of  entertainment. 

"I  have  told  his  Excellency,"  the  Sovereign  began, 
"that  you  have  a  special  object  of  interest  which  you 
pursue  like  a  sportsman.  How  about  the  manuscript?" 

The  Professor  related  his  new  discovery  of  the  two 
chests. 

"The  next  hunting-ground  which  I  hope  to  try  will 
be  the  garrets  and  rooms  in  the  summer  castle  of  the 
Princess;  if  these  yield  me  no  booty,  I  would  hardly 
know  of  any  place  that  has  not  been  searched." 

"I  shall  be  delighted  if  you  soon  attain  your  ob- 
ject," said  the  Sovereign,  looking  at  the  High  Steward. 
"  I  assume  that  the  discovery  of  this  manuscript  will 
be  of  great  importance  for  your  own  professional  ca- 
reer. Of  course  you  will  consent  to  publish  the  same." 

•'It  would  be  the  noblest  task  that  could  fall  to  my 
lot,"  replied  the  Professor,"  "always  supposing  that 
yourHighnesswould  graciously  entrust  the  work  tome." 

"You  shall  undertake  the  work,  and  no  other,"  re- 


A    CHAPTER    FROM    TACITUS.  297 

plied  the  Sovereign,  laughing,  "  so  far  as  1  have  the 
right  to  decide  it.  So  the  invisible  book  will  be  really 
of  great  importance  to  learning?" 

"The  greatest  importance.  The  contents  of  it  will 
be  of  the  highest  value  to  every  scholar.  I  think  it 
would  also  interest  your  Highness,"  said  the  Professor, 
innocently,  "for  the  Roman  Tacitus  is  in  a  certain 
sense  a  Court  historian;  the  main  point  of  his  narra- 
tive is  the  characters  of  the  Emperors  who,  in  the  first 
century  of  our  era,  decided  the  fate  of  the  old  world. 
It  is  indeed,  on  the  whole,  a  sorrowful  picture." 

"Did  he  belong  to  the  hostile  party?"  inquired  the 
Sovereign. 

"  He  is  the  great  narrator  of  thepeculiar  deformity  of 
character  found  in  the  sovereigns  of  the  ancient  world; 
we  have  to  thank  him  for  a  series  of  psychological 
studies  of  a  malady  that  then  developed  itself  on  the 
throne." 

"That  is  new  to  me,"  replied  the  Sovereign,  fidg- 
eting on  his  chair. 

"Your  Highness  will,  I  am  convinced,  view  the  va- 
rious forms  of  this  mental  malady  with  the  greatest 
sympathy,  and  will  find  in  other  periods  of  the  past — 
nay,  even  in  the  earlier  civilization  of  our  own  people 
— many  remarkable  parallel  cases." 

"Do  you  speak  of  a  special  malady  that  only  be- 
falls rulers?"  asked  the  Sovereign;  "physicians  will  be 
grateful  to  you  for  this  discovery." 

"In  fact,"  answered  the  Professor,  eagerly,  "the 
fearful  importance  of  this  phenomenon  is  far  too  little 
estimated;  no  other  has  exercised  such  an  immeasur- 
able influence  on  the  fate  of  nations.  The  destruction 
by  pestilence  and  war  is  small  in  comparison  with  the 
fatal  devastation  of  nations  which  has  been  occasioned 


2g8  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

by  this  special  misfortune  of  the  rulers.  For  this  mal- 
ady, which  raged  long  after  Tacitus  among  the  Roman 
emperors,  is  not  an  ailing  that  is  confined  to  ancient 
Rome — it  is  undoubtedly  as  old  as  the  despotisms  of 
the  human  race;  even  later  it  has  been  the  lot  of  nu- 
merous rulers  in  Christian  states;  it  has  produced  de- 
formed and  grotesque  characters  in  every  period;  it 
has  been  for  thousands  of  years  the  worm  enclosed  in 
the  brain,  consuming  the  marrow  of  the  head,  destroy- 
ing the  judgment  and  corroding  the  moral  feelings, 
until  at  last  nothing  remained  but  the  hollow  glitter  of 
life.  Sometimes  it  became  madness  which  could  be 
proved  by  medical  men,  but  in  numerous  other  cases 
the  capacity  for  practical  life  did  not  cease  and  the  se- 
cret mischief  was  carefully  concealed.  There  were 
periods  when  only  occasional  firmly- established  minds 
preserved  their  full  healthy  vigor;  and  again  other  cen- 
turies when  the  heads  that  wore  a  diadem  inhaled  a 
fresh  atmosphere  from  the  people.  I  am  convinced 
that  he  whose  vocation  it  is  to  investigate  accurately 
the  conditions  of  later  times  will,  in  the  course  of  his 
studies,  discover  the  same  malady  under  a  milder 
form.  My  life  lies  far  from  these  observations,  but  the 
Roman  state  undoubtedly  shows  the  strangest  forms 
of  the  malady;  for  there  were  the  widest  relations,  and 
such  a  powerful  development  of  human  nature  both  in 
virtue  and  vice  as  has  seldom  since  been  found  in 
history." 

"  It  seems  to  be  a  particular  pleasure  to  the  learned 
gentlemen  to  bring  to  light  these  sufferings  of  former 
rulers,"  said  the  Sovereign. 

"They  are  certainly  instructive  for  all  times,"  con- 
tinued the  Professor,  confidently,  "for  by  fearful  ex- 
ample they  impress  upon  one  the  truth  that  the  higher 


A    CHAPTER    FROM    TACITUS.  2QQ 

a  man's  position  is,  the  greater  is  the  necessity  of  bar- 
riers to  restrain  the  arbitrariness  of  his  nature.  Your 
Highness's  independent  judgment  and  rich  experience 
will  enable  you  to  discern,  more  distinctly  than  any 
one  in  my  sphere  of  life,  that  the  phenomena  of  this 
malady  always  show  themselves  where  the  ruling 
powers  have  less  to  fear  and  to  honor  than  other  mor- 
tals. What  preserves  a  man  in  ordinary  situations  is 
that  he  feels  himself  at  every  moment  of  his  life  under 
strict  and  incessant  control;  his  friends,  the  law,  and 
the  interest  of  others  surround  him  on  all  sides,  they 
demand  imperiously  that  he  should  conform  his 
thoughts  and  will  by  rules  which  secure  the  welfare  of 
others.  At  all  times  the  power  of  these  fetters  is  less 
effective  on  the  ruler;  he  can  easily  cast  off  what  con- 
fines him,  an  ungracious  movement  of  the  hand  fright- 
ens the  monitor  forever  from  his  side.  From  morning 
to  evening  he  is  surrounded  by  persons  who  accom- 
modate themselves  to  him;  no  friend  reminds  him  of 
his  duty,  no  law  punishes  him.  Hundreds  of  examples 
teach  us  that  former  rulers,  even  amidst  great  out- 
ward success,  suffered  from  inward  ravages,  where 
they  were  not  guarded  by  a  strong  public  opin- 
ion, or  incessantly  constrained  by  the  powerful  par 
ticipation  of  the  people  in  the  state.  We  cannot  but 
think  of  the  gigantic  power  of  a  general  and  conqueror 
whose  successes  and  victories  brought  devastation  and 
excessive  sin  into  his  own  life;  he  became  a  fearful 
sham,  a  liar  to  himself  and  a  liar  to  the  world  before 
he  was  overthrown,  and  long  before  he  died.  To  in- 
vestigate similar  cases  is,  as  I  said,  not  my  vocation." 

"No,"  said  the  Sovereign,  in  a  faint  voice. 

"The  distant  time,"  began  the  High  Steward,  "of 
which  you  speak,  was  a  sad  epoch  for  the  people  as 


3OO  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

well  as  the  rulers.  If  I  am  not  mistaken  a  feeling  of 
decay  was  general,  and  the  admired  writers  were  of 
little  value;  at  least  it  appears  to  me  that  Apuleius  and 
Lucan  were  frivolous  and  deplorably  vulgar  men." 

The  Professor  looked  surprised  at  the  courtier. 

"In  my  youth  such  authors  were  much  read,"  he 
continued.  "I  do  not  blame  the  better  ones  of 
that  period,  when  they  turned  away  with  disgust  at 
such  doings,  and  withdrew  into  the  most  retired  pri- 
vate life,  or  into  the  Theban  wilderness.  Therefore 
when  you  speak  of  a  malady  of  the  Roman  emperors, 
I  might  retort  that  it  was  only  the  result  of  the  mon- 
strous malady  of  the  people;  although  I  see  quite  well 
that  during  this  corruption  individuals  accomplished 
a  great  advance  in  the  human  race,  the  freeing  the 
people  from  the  exclusiveness  of  nationality  to  the 
unity  of  culture,  and  the  new  ideal  which  was  brought 
upon  earth  by  Christianity." 

"  Undoubtedly  the  form  of  the  state,  and  the  style 
of  culture  which  each  individual  emperor  found,  were 
decisive  for  his  life.  Every  one  is,  in  this  sense,  the 
child  of  his  own  time,  and  when  it  is  a  question  of 
judging  the  measure  of  his  guilt,  it  is  fitting  to  weigh 
cautiously  such  considerations.  But  what  I  had  the 
honor  of  pointing  out  to  his  Highness  as  the  special 
merit  of  Tacitus,  is  only  the  masterly  way  with  which 
he  describes  the  peculiar  symptoms  and  course  of  the 
Caesarean  insanity." 

"  They  were  all  mad,"  interrupted  the  Sovereign, 
with  a  hoarse  voice. 

"  Pardon,  gracious  Sir,"  rejoined  the  Professor,  in- 
nocently. "  Augustus  became  a  better  man  on  the 
throne,  and  almost  a  century  after  the  time  of  Tacitus 
there  were  good  and  moderate  rulers.  But  something 


A    CHAPTER    FROM    TACITUS.  301 

of  the  curse  which  unlimited  power  exercises  on  the 
soul  may  be  discovered  in  most  of  the  Roman  em- 
perors. In  the  better  ones  it  was  like  a  malady  which 
seldom  showed  itself,  but  was  restrained  by  good  sense 
or  a  good  disposition.  Many  of  them  indeed  were 
utterly  corrupted,  and  in  them  the  malady  developed 
in  definite  gradation,  the  law  of  which  one  can  easily 
understand." 

"Then  you  also  know  how  these  people  were  at  heart ! " 
said  the  Sovereign,  looking  shyly  at  the  Professor. 

The  High  Steward  retreated  towards  a  window. 

"  It  is  not  difficult  in  general  to  follow  the  course 
of  the  malady,"  replied  the  Professor,  engrossed  with 
his  subject.  "  The  first  accession  to  power  has  an 
elevating  tendency.  The  highest  earthly  vocation 
raises  even  narrow-minded  men  like  Claudius;  de- 
praved villians  like  Caligula,  Nero,  and  Domitian, 
showed  a  certain  nobleness  at  first.  There  is  an  eager 
desire  to  please,  and  strenuous  exertion  to  establish 
themselves  by  graciousness;  a  fear  of  influential  per- 
sons or  of  the  opposition  of  the  masses  compels  a  cer- 
tain moderation.  But  arbitrary  power  has  made  men 
slaves,  and  the  slavish  feeling  shows  itself  in  an  abject 
veneration  which  puts  the  emperor  on  a  pinnacle 
above  other  men;  he  is  treated  as  if  specially  favored 
by  the  gods,  nay,  as  if  his  soul  was  an  emanation  of 
godly  power.  Amid  this  adoration  by  all,  and  the 
security  of  power,  egotism  soon  increases.  The  acci- 
dental demands  of  an  unrestrained  will  become  reck- 
less, the  soul  gradually  loses  the  power  of  distinguish- 
ing between  good  and  evil;  his  personal  wishes  appear 
to  the  ruler  henceforth  as  the  necessity  of  the  state, 
and  every  whim  of  the  moment  must  be  satisfied. 
Distrust  of  all  who  are  independent  leads  to  senseless 


3O2  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

suspicion;  he  who  will  not  be  pliant  is  set  aside  as  an 
enemy,  and  he  who  adapts  himself  with  suppleness  is 
sure  to  exercise  a  mastery  over  his  master.  Family 
bonds  are  severed,  the  nearest  relations  are  watched 
as  secret  enemies,  the  deceptive  show  of  hearty  con- 
fidence is  maintained,  but  suddenly  some  evil  deed 
breaks  through  the  veil  that  hypocrisy  has  drawn  over 
a  hollow  existence." 

The  Sovereign  slowly  drew  back  his  chair  from  the 
fire  into  the  dark. 

"  The  idea  of  the  Roman  state  at  last  entirely  van- 
ishes from  the  soul,  only  personal  dependence  is  re- 
quired; true  devotion  to  the  state  becomes  a  crime. 
This  helplessness,  and  the  cessation  of  the  power  of 
judging  of  the  worth — nay,  even  of  the  attachment  of 
men — betoken  an  advance  of  the  malady  by  which  all 
sense  of  accountability  is  impaired.  Now  the  elements 
of  which  the  character  is  formed  become  more  con- 
tracted and  onesided,  the  will  more  frivolous  and  pal- 
try. A  childish  weakness  becomes  perceptible;  pleas- 
ure in  miserable  trifles  and  empty  jokes,  together  with 
knavish  tricks  which  destroy  without  aim;  it  becomes 
enjoyment  not  only  to  torment  and  see  the  torments 
of  others,  but  also  an  irresistible  pleasure  to  drag  all 
that  is  venerated  down  to  a  common  level.  It  is  very 
remarkable  how,  in  consequence  of  this  decay  of 
thought,  an  unquiet  and  destructive  sensuality  takes 
the  place  of  all.  Its  dark  power  becomes  overmaster- 
ing, and  instead  of  the  honorable  old  age  which  gives 
dignity  even  to  the  weak,  we  are  disgusted  by  the  re- 
pugnant picture  of  decrepit  debauchees,  like  Tiberius 
and  Claudius.  The  last  powers  of  life  are  destroyed 
by  shameless  and  refined  profligacy." 


CJESAREAN    INSANITY    IN    THE    HUMMEL    FAMILY.     303 

"  That  is  very  remarkable,"  repeated  the  Sovereign, 
mechanically. 

The  Professor  concluded:  "  Thus  are  accomplished 
the  four  gradations  of  ruin;  first,  gigantic  egotism; 
then  suspicion  and  hypocrisy;  then  childish  senseless- 
ness; and,  lastly,  repugnant  excesses." 

The  Sovereign  rose  slowly  from  his  chair;  he  tot- 
tered, and  the  High  Steward  drew  near  to  him  terri- 
fied, but  he  supported  himself  with  his  hand  on  the 
arm  of  the  chair*  and,  turning  languidly  to  the  Pro- 
fessor without  looking  at  him,  said,  slowly: 

"  I  thank  the  gentleman  for  a  pleasant  hour." 

One  could  perceive  the  effort  which  it  cost  him  to 
bring  out  the  words. 

In  going  out  the  Professor  asked  in  a  low  tone  of 
the  High  Steward: 

"  I  fear  I  have  wearied  the  Sovereign  by  this  long 
discussion?" 

The  High  Steward  looked  with  astonishment  at 
the  frank  countenance  of  the  scholar: 

"  I  do  not  doubt  that  the  Sovereign  will  very  soon 
show  you  that  he  has  listened  with  attention." 

When  they  were  on  the  stairs  they  heard  a  hoarse, 
discordant  sound  in  the  distance;  the  old  gentleman 
shuddered,  and  leaned  against  the  wall. 

The  Professor  listened;  all  was  still. 

"  It  was  like  the  cry  of  a  wild  beast." 

"  The  sound  came  from  the  street,"  replied  the 
High  Steward. 

CHAPTER    XXXIII. 
CjESAREAN  INSANITY  IN  THE  HUMMEL  FAMILY. 

MR.  HAHN  was  walking  by  the  side  of  his  garden 
fence,  his  soul  filled  with  gratitude;  but  as  this  was 


304  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

prevented  from  escaping  through  the  usual  outlet  of 
friendly  speech,  it  compelled  him  to  take  refuge  in 
those  chambers  of  his  mind  in  which  he  kept  the  plans 
for  the  beautifying  of  his  garden.  His  noble-hearted 
opponent  was  about  to  celebrate  his  birthday;  this 
Mr.  Hahn  discovered  in  a  roundabout  way.  On  this 
day  he  might  perhaps  be  able  to  show  him  some  se- 
cret token  of  esteem.  The  greatest  treasures  in  Mr. 
Hahn's  garden  were  his  standards  and  bush  roses  of 
every  size  and  color, — splendid  flowers  which  bloomed 
almost  the  whole  year,  and  were  much  admired  by 
the  passers-by.  They  were  all  in  pots,  his  delight  was 
to  move  them  about  in  the  garden  himself,  and  arrange 
them  ornamentally  in  different  groups.  These  roses 
he  determined  to  dedicate  as  a  quiet  mark  of  homage 
to  Mr.  Hummel.  He  had  long  lamented  a  desolate 
space  in  the  middle  of  his  enemy's  garden;  it  had  lain 
bare  the  whole  summer  as  a  place  of  repose  for  the 
brindle  dog  or  a  roving  cat.  When  Mr.  Hummel  should 
enter  his  garden  on  his  birthday  he  should  find  the 
round  bed  changed  into  a  blooming  circle  of  roses. 

This  thought  occasioned  Mr.  Hahn  happy  hours, 
and  raised  him  a  little  from  the  depth  of  his  sorrows. 
He  carried  the  roses  into  a  concealed  corner,  arranged 
them  in  rank  and  file  according  to  their  size  and  color, 
and  wrote  their  numbers  with  chalk  on  the  pots.  The 
park-keeper,  whose  house  stood  at  the  extreme  limit 
of  the  city  by  the  river,  had  a  little  boat;  this  Mr. 
Hahn  borrowed  secretly  for  a  few  hours  in  the  night. 
Before  the  early  dawn  of  morning,  on  the  birthday  of 
his  enemy,  he  slipped  out  of  the  house,  rowed  the 
pots  in  the  boat  to  the  small  steps  which  led  from  the 
water-side  into  the  garden  of  Mr.  Hummel;  he  glided 
with  his  loved  roses  to  the  circular  bed,  arranged  them 


C^ESAREAN    INSANITY    IN    THE    HUMMEL    FAMILY.     305 

noiselessly  according  to  their  numbers,  planted  each 
separately,  and  changed  the  desert  spot  into  a  blooming 
parterre  of  roses.  When  the  sparrows  in  the  gutters 
twittered  out  their  first  querulous  abuse,  he  had 
smoothed  down  the  earth  in  the  bed  with  a  small  rake. 
He  cast  a  look  of  pleasure  on  his  work,  and  another  on 
the  still  dusky  outline  of  the  house,  within  which  Mr. 
Hummel  still  slept,  unprepared  for  the  surprise  of  the 
morning,  and  then  glided  with  his  spade  and  empty 
pots  into  his  boat,  rowed  himself  up  to  the  house  of 
the  park-keeper,  and  concealed  himself  and  his  garden 
utensils  on  his  own  ground  before  the  first  rays 
of  the  rising  sun  painted  his  chimney  with  roseate 
colors. 

Mr.  Hummel  entered  his  sitting-room  at  the  usual 
hour,  received  with  good-humor  the  congratulations  of 
his  ladies,  looked  graciously  at  the  birthday  cake  which 
wife  Philippine  had  placed  with  his  coffee,  and  at  the 
travelling-bag  which  Laura  had  embroidered  for  him, 
took  his  newspaper  in  his  hand,  and  prepared  himself 
by  participation  in  the  political  concerns  of  men  in 
general,  for  the  business  of  his  own  life.  All  this 
passed  off  well ;  in  his  factory  and  in  his  office  he  re- 
ceived congratulations  like  a  lamb  ;  he  stroked  the 
snarling  dog,  and  wrote  business  letters  full  of  respect 
to  his  customers.  When  towards  the  middle  of  the 
day  he  returned  to  his  ladies,  and  the  Doctor  en- 
tered his  room  to  offer  his  congratulations,  a  dark 
cloud  gathered  on  the  sunny  countenance  of  the  master 
of  the  house,  and  lightning  flashed  from  under  his  am- 
brosial eyebrows. 

"What,  Saul  among  the  prophets  !  Are  you  come 
to  fetch  a  lost  ass  back  to  your  father's  house  ?  We 
cannot  accommodate  you.  Or  are  you  going  to  de- 


306  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

liver  a  lecture  upon  the  language  of  the  orang-outang 
in  the  land  of  the  cocoas  ? 

"My  lectures  have  not  caused  you  any  trouble  so 
far,"  replied  the  Doctor.  "  I  have  not  come  in  order 
that  your  hospitable  politeness  should  take  the  trouble 
to  entertain  those  present  by  the  outpouring  of  your 
good  humor.  I  have  already  expressed  to  you  my 
wish  never  to  be  the  object  of  it." 

"Then  defend  yourself  if  you  can,"  cried  Hummel. 

"lam  only  prevented,"  replied  the  Doctor,  "by 
consideration  for  those  present  from  giving  you  in 
your  own  house  the  answer  which  you  seem  to  wish." 

"I  should  be  sorry  if  you  were  placed  at  any 
disadvantage  in  my  house,"  replied  Hummel.  "  I  pro- 
pose to  you,  therefore,  to  put  yourself  on  an  equal 
footing  with  me,  by  remaining  in  your  own  house  and 
putting  your  head  out  of  the  window.  I  will  do  the 
same ;  we  can  then  sing  out  to  one  another  across  the 
street,  like  two  canary  birds." 

"But  as  I  am  here  now,"  said  the  Doctor,  with  a 
bow,  "  I  claim  to  be  allowed  to  eat  this  piece  of  birth- 
day cake  in  peace  among  friendly  faces." 

"Then  I  beg  of  you  to  resign  the  sight  of  my  face 
without  overpowering  sorrow,"  replied  Hummel. 

He  opened  the  door  into  the  garden,  and  went  down 
the  steps  discontentedly.  While  still  at  a  distance 
he  saw  the  young  group  of  roses  smiling  innocently  in 
the  light  of  the  sun.  He  walked  round  the  spot,  shook 
his  head,  and  invited  his  ladies  into  the  garden. 

"Which  of  you  got  this  idea?"  he  asked. 

The  ladies  showed  such  lively  surprise  that  he  was 
convinced  of  their  innocence.  He  called  to  the  old 
storekeeper  and  the  book-keeper.  All  showed  entire 


C^ESAREAN    INSANITY    IN    THE    HUMMEL    FAMILY.     307 

ignorance.     The  countenance  of  Mr.  Hummel  became 
gloomy. 

"What  does  this  mean?  Some  one  has  slipped  in 
here  while  we  were  asleep.  Night  garden-work  is  not 
to  my  taste.  Who  has  ventured  to  enter  my  property 
without  permission  ?  Who  has  brought  in  these  pro- 
ducts of  nature  ?  " 

He  went  restlessly  along  the  side  of  the  water :  be- 
hind him  followed  Spitehahn.  The  dog  crept  down  the 
steps  to  the  water,  smelt  at  a  bit  of  brown  wood  which 
lay  on  the  last  step,  came  up  again,  turned  towards 
the  house  of  Mr.  Hahn,  and  set  up  his  back  like  a  cat, 
mockingly,  and  made  a  snarling  noise.  It  meant  as 
clearly  as  if  he  had  spoken  the  friendly  words,  "  I  wish* 
you  a  pleasant  meal." 

"Right,"  cried  Hummel;  "the  intruder  has  left  the 
handle  of  the  rudder  behind.  The  brown  handle  be- 
longs to  the  boat  of  the  park-keeper.  Take  it  over  to 
him,  Klaus.  I  demand  an  answer;  who  has  ventured 
to  bring  his  boat  alongside  here?" 

The  storekeeper  hastened  away  with  the  piece  of 
wood,  and  brought  back  the  answer  with  an  embar- 
rassed air : 

"Mr.  Hahn  had  borrowed  the  boat  in  the  night." 

"If  there  are  forebodings,"  cried  Hummel,  angrily, 

"this  was  one.  This  nocturnal  prowling  of  your  father 

I  forbid  under  all  circumstances,"  he  continued,  to  the 

Doctor. 

"I  know  nothing  of  it,"  rejoined  the  Doctor.  "If 
my  father  has  done  this,  I  beg  of  you,  even  if  you  do 
not  value  the  roses,  to  be  pleased  with  the  good  in- 
tention." 

"I  protest  against  every  rose  that  may  be  strewed 
on  my  path,"  cried  Hummel.  "First  we  had  po.i»r%ved 


308  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

dumplings,  with  evil  intentions;  and  now  rose  leaves, 
with  good  ones.  Your  father  should  think  of  some- 
thing else  than  such  jokes.  The  ground  and  soil  are 
mine,  and  I  intend  to  prevent  roosters  from  scratch- 
ing here." 

He  charged  wildly  into  the  roses,  seized  hold  of 
stems  and  branches,  tore  them  out  of  the  ground,  and 
threw  them  into  a  confused  heap. 

The  Doctor  turned  gloomily  away,  but  Laura  has- 
tened to  her  father  and  looked  angrily  into  his  hard  face. 

"  What  you  have  rooted  up,"  she  exclaimed,  "  I  will 
replace  with  my  own  hands." 

She  ran  to  a  corner  of  the  garden,  brought- some 
pots,  knelt  down  on  the  ground,  and  pressed  the  stems 
with  the  little  balls  of  earth  into  them  as  eagerly  as 
her  father  had  rooted  them  up. 

"  I  will  take  care  of  them,"  she  called  out,  to  the 
Doctor  ;  "  tell  your  dear  father  that  not  all  in  our  house 
undervalue  his  friendship." 

"Do  what  you  cannot  help,"  replied  Mr.  Hummel, 
more  quietly.  "Klaus,  why  do  you  stand  there  on 
your  hind  legs  staring  like  a  tortoise?  Why  do  you 
not  help  Miss  Hummel  in  her  garden-work.  Then 
carry  the  whole  birthday-present  back  again  to  the 
youthful  flower-grower.  My  compliments,  and  he 
must  in  the  darkness  have  mistaken  the  gardens. 

He  turned  his  back  upon  the  company,  and  went 
with  heavy  steps  to  his  office.  Laura  knelt  on  the 
ground  and  worked  at  the  ill-used  roses  with  height- 
ened color  and  gloomy  determination.  The  Doctor 
helped  silently.  He  had  seen  his  father  behind  the 
hedge,  and  knew  how  deeply  the  poor  man  would  feel 
vhis  latest  outburst  on  the  part  of  his  adversary.  Laura 
did  not  desist  till  she  had  put  all  the  flowers  as  well 


CJESAREAN    INSANITY    IN    THE    HUMMEL    FAMILY.     309 

as  possible  into  the  pots  ;  then  she  plunged  her  hands 
into  the  stream,  and  her  tears  mixed  with  the  water. 
She  led  the  Doctor  back  to  the  room  ;  there  she  wrung 
her  hands,  quite  beside  herself. 

"  Life  is  horrible  ;  our  happiness  is  destroyed  in 
this  miserable  quarrel.  Only  one  thing  can  save  you 
and  me.  You  are  a  man,  and  must  find  out  what  can 
deliver  us  from  this  misery." 

She  rushed  out  of  the  room  ;  the  mother  beckoned 
eagerly  to  the  Doctor  to  remain  behind,  when  he  was 
on  the  point  of  following. 

"She  is  beside  herself,"  cried  Fritz.  "  What  do 
her  words  mean  ?  What  does  she  desire  of  me  ?" 

The  mother  seated  herself  on  the  sofa,  embarrassed 
and  full  of  anxiety,  cleared  her  throat,  and  twisted  at 
her  sleeves. 

"  I  must  confide  something  to  you,  Doctor,"  she 
began,  hesitatingly,  "  which  will  be  very  painful  to  us 
both  ;  but  I  know  not  what  to  do,  and  all  the  repre- 
sentations that  I  make  to  my  unhappy  child  are  in 
vain.  Not  to  conceal  anything  from  you, — it  is  a  strange 
freak, — and  I  should  have  thought  such  a  thing  im- 
possible." 

She  stopped  and  concealed  her  face  in  her  pocket- 
handkerchief.  Fritz  looked  anxiously  at  the  disturbed 
face  of  Mrs.  Hummel.  A  secret  of  Laura's  that  he 
had  for  weeks  foreboded  was  now  to  fall  destructively 
on  his  hopes. 

"  I  will  confess  all  to  you,  dear  Doctor,"  continued 
the  mother,  with  many  sighs.  "Laura  esteems  you  be- 
yond measure,  and  the  thought  of  becoming  your  wife 
— I  must  say  it  in  confidence — is  not  strange  or  disa- 
greeable to  her.  But  she  has  a  fearful  idea  in  her 
head,  and  I  am  ashamed  to  express  it." 


710  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

<J 

"Speak  out,"  said  the  Doctor,  in  despair. 

"  Laura  wishes  you  to  elope  with  her." 

Fritz  was  dazed. 

"  It  is  scarcely  for  a  mother  to  express  this  wish 
to  you,  but  I  do  not  know  how  to  do  otherwise." 

"But  where  to  ?  "  cried  the  Doctor,  quite  aghast. 

"That  is  the  most  painful  part  of  all,  as  you  your- 
self must  acknowledge.  What  put  the  idea  into  her 
head,  whether  poetry,  or  reading  about  the  great  world 
in  the  newspapers,  I  know  not.  But  to  her  frame  of 
mind,  which  is  always  excited  and  tragic,  I  can  oppose 
no  resistance.  I  am  afraid  to  impart  it  to  my  husband. 
I  conjure  you  to  do  what  you  can  to  calm  my  child. 
Her  feelings  are  wounded,  and  I  can  no  longer  resist 
the  inward  struggle  for  this  young  heart." 

"I  beg  permission,"  replied  the  Doctor,  "to  speak 
immediately  with  Laura  on  the  subject." 

Without  waiting  for  the  mother's  answer,  he  has- 
tened up  the  stairs  to  Laura's  room.  He  knocked,  but 
receiving  no  answer,  opened  the  door.  Laura  was 
sitting  by  her  Writing-table,  sobbing  violently. 

"  Dear,  sweet  Laura,"  exclaimed  the  Doctor,  "  I 
have  been  speaking  with  your  mother ;  let  me  know 
all." 

Laura  started. 

"  Every  warm  feeling  is  rejected  with  scorn,  every 
hour  that  I  see  you  is  embittered  by  the  hostility  of 
my  father.  The  heart  of  the  poorest  maiden  palpi- 
tates when  she  hears  the  voice  of  the  man  she  loves  : 
but  I  must  ask,  is  that  the  happiness  of  love?  When 
I  do  not  see  you  I  am  in  anxiety  about  you,  and  when 
you  come  to  us  I  feel  tormented,  and  listen  with  terror 
to  every  word  of  my  father.  I  see  you  joyless  and  cast 
down.  Fritz,  your  love  for  me,  makes  you  unhappy." 


OESAREAN    INSANITY    IN    THE    HUMMEL    FAMILY.     311 

"Patience,  Laura,"  said  the  Doctor;  "  let  us  per- 
severe. My  confidence  in  your  father's  heart  is  greater 
than  yours.  He  will  gradually  reconcile  himself  to  me." 

"Yes,  after  he  has  broken  both  our  hearts;  even 
great  love  is  crushed  by  constant  opposition.  I  cannot, 
amidst  the  wrangling  of  our  hostile  families,  become 
your  wife ;  the  narrow  street  and  the  old  hatred  are 
destructive  to  me.  I  have  often  sat  here  lamenting 
that  I  was  not  a  man  who  could  boldly  battle  for  his 
own  happiness.  Listen  to  a  secret,  Fritz,"  she  said, 
approaching  him,  again  wringing  her  hands  ;  "here  I 
am  becoming  haughty,  malicious,  and  wicked." 

"I  have  observed  nothing  of  that  kind,"  replied 
Fritz,  astonished. 

"I  conceal  it  from  you,"  exclaimed  Laura;  "but  I 
struggle  daily  with  bad  thoughts,  and  I  am  indifferent 
to  the  love  of  my  parents.  When  my  father  pats  my 
head,  the  devil  cries  within  me  he  had  better  let  it 
alone.  When  my  mother  admonishes  me  to  have  pa- 
tience, her  talk  secretly  irritates  me,  because  she  uses 
finer  words  than  are  necessary.  I  hate  the  dog,  so  that 
I  often  beat  him  without  cause.  The  conversation  at 
the  Sunday  dinner,  the  stories  of  the  old  actor,  and  the 
eternal  little  tittle-tattle  of  the  street  appear  insup- 
portable to  me.  I  feel  that  I  am  an  odious  creature, 
and  I  have  frequently  in  this  place  wept  over  and 
hated  myself.  These  bad  fits  are  ever  recurring  and 
become  more  overpowering.  I  shall  never  be  better 
here :  where  we  live  under  a  curse,  like  two  spoiled 
children.  We  sink,  Fritz,  in  these  surroundings  !  Even 
the  loving  care  of  parents  ceases  to  make  one  happy — 
the  anxiety  that  one  should  not  wet  one's  feet,  that  one 
should  wear  woolen  stockings,  and  have  cakes  and 


312  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

sugar  plums  on  a  Sunday — is  one  to  go  through  all 
this  every  year  of  one's  life?  " 

She  hastily  opened  her  journal,  and  held  out  to  him 
a  bundle  of  poems  and  letters. 

"Here  are  your  letters  ;  through  these  I  have  learnt 
to  love  you,  for  here  is  what  I  revere  in  you.  Thus 
would  I  always  have  you  be.  When,  therefore,  I 
think  of  what  you  have  to  go  through  between  our 
houses  and  to  bear  from  my  father,  and  when  I  ob- 
serve that  you  wear  a  double  shawl  under  every  rough 
blast,  I  become  anxious  and  worried  about  you  ;  and  I 
see  you  before  me  as  a  pampered  book-worm,  and  my- 
self as  a  little  stout  woman  with  a  large  cap  and  an  in- 
significant face,  sitting  before  the  coffee  cups,  talking 
over  the  daily  passers  by,  and  this  thought  oppresses 
my  heart." 

Fritz  recognized  his  letters.  He  had  long  felt  cer- 
tain that  Laura  was  his  secret  confidant,  but  when  he 
now  looked  at  the  loved  one  who  held  up  to  him  the 
secret  correspondence,  he  no  longer  thought  of  the 
caprice  which  had  occasioned  him  so  much  grief;  he 
thought  only  of  the  true-heartedness  and  of  the  poetry 
of  this  tender  connexion. 

"  Dear,  dear  Laura,"  he  exclaimed,  embracing  her ; 
"it  seems  as  if  two  souls  with  which  my  heart  had  in- 
tercourse had  become  one,  but  you  now  divide  me  and 
yourself  into  human  beings  of  daily  life,  and  into 
higher  natures.  What  has  destroyed  your  cheerful 
confidence?" 

"  Our  difficulties,  Fritz,  and  the  sorrow  of  seeing 
you  without  pleasure,  and  hearing  your  voice  without 
being  elevated  by  it ;  you  are  with  me,  and  yet  further 
off  from  me  than  in  those  days  when  I  did  not  see  you 
at  all,  or  only  in  the  society  of  friends." 


CjESAREAN    INSANITY    IN    THE    HUMMEL    FAMILY.     313 

She  released  herself  from  his  embrace. 

"  Do  you  love  me?  and  are  you  the  man  who  has 
written  these?  If  so,  venture  to  withdraw  me  from 
this  captivity.  Begin  a  new  life  with  me.  I  will  work 
with  you  and  be  self-denying;  you  shall  see  of  what  I 
am  capable ;  I  will  think  day  and  night  of  how  I  can 
earn  our  maintenance,"  that  you  may  be  undisturbed 
by  petty  cares  in  your  learned  work.  Be  brisk  and 
bold,  cast  off  your  eternal  caution,  venture  for  once  to 
do  what  others  may  look  at  askance." 

"If  I  were  to  do  it,"  answered  Fritz,  seriously,  "the 
risk  would  be  small  for  me.  For  you  the  consequences 
may  be  such  as  you  do  not  think  of.  How  can  you 
imagine  that  a  rash  determination  can  be  good  for  you 
if  it  throws  fresh  discord  into  your  soul,  and  burdens 
your  whole  life  with  a  feeling  of  guilt  towards  others?" 

"If  I  take  upon  myself  to  do  what  is  wrong,"  ex- 
claimed Laura,  gloomily,  "I  do  it  not  for  myself  alone. 
I  feel  but  too  well  that  it  is  wrong,  but  I  venture  it  for 
our  love.  Never  will  my  father  voluntarily  lay  my 
hand  in  yours.  He  knows  that  I  am  devoted  to  you, 
and  is  not  so  hard  as  to  wish  my  unhappiness,  but  he 
cannot  overcome  his  disinclination.  One  day  he  is 
compelled  to  acknowledge  that  you  are  the  man  to 
whom  I  ought  to  belong,  the  next  the  bitter  feeling  of 
how  hateful  it  is  to  him  again  returns.  If  you  venture 
to  defy  him  you  will  do  what  is  really  agreeable  to  him  ; 
show  a  strong  will,  and,  though  he  may  be  angry,  he 
will  easily  be  appeased  by  your  courage.  He  loves 
me,"  she  said  in  a  low  tone,  "but  he  is  fearfully  hard 
to  others." 

"Is  he  always  so?"  asked  the  Doctor.  "It  is  clear 
the  daughter  does  not  know  the  full  worth  of  her  fa- 
ther. I  should  at  this  moment  be  doing  both  him  and 


314  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

you  an  injustice  if  I  were  to  conceal  from  you  what  he 
wishes  to  keep  secret.  Listen,  then  :  when  my  poor 
father  was  sitting  by  me  in  despair,  your  father  en- 
tered our  house  and  gave  us  in  the  most  magnanimous 
way  the  means  of  averting  the  threatened  blow.  Do 
you  not  know  that  his  sulkiness  and  quarrelsomeness 
are  frequently  only  the  expression  of  a  rough  humor?" 

Laura  watched  his  mouth  as  if  she  wished  to  de- 
vour every  word  that  fell  from  his  lips. 

"Did  my  father  do  this?"  she  exclaimed,  startled 
to  the  utmost,  raising  her  arms  towards  heaven,  and 
throwing  herself  down  upon  her  writing-table. 

Fritz  wished  to  raise  her. 

"  Leave  me,"  she  entreated,  passionately,  "  it  will 
pass  off.  I  am  happy.  Leave  me  alone  now,  beloved 
one." 

The  Doctor  closed  the  door  gently,  and  went  down 
to  the  mother,  who  still  sat  on  the  sofa  overwhelmed 
with  anxiety,  revolving  in  her  mind,  with  motherly 
alarm,  all  the  exciting  scenes  of  an  elopement. 

"  I  beg  of  you,"  he  said,  "not  to  worry  Laura  now 
by  remonstrances.  She  will  regain  her  calmness. 
Trust  to  her  noble  heart." 

With  these  wise  words  the  Doctor  endeavored  to 
comfort  himself.  Meanwhile  Laura  lay  supported 
against  the  chair,  and  thought  over  her  injustice  to 
her  father.  For  years  she  had  borne  the  sorrow  which 
is  bitterest  to  the  heart  of  a  child,  and  now  the  pres- 
sure was  taken  from  her  soul.  At  last  she  arose,  drew 
out  her  diary,  tore  out  one  page  after  another,  crum- 
pled up  the  leaves  and  threw  them  into  the  fire— a 
small  sacrifice.  She  watched  it  till  the  last  sparks 
flickered  in  the  dark  ashes,  then  she  closed  the  stove 
and  hastened  out  of  the  room. 


CJESAREAN    INSANITY    IN    THE    HUMMEL    FAMILY.     315 

Mr.  Hummel  was  sitting  in  his  warehouse  before  a 
battalion  of  new  hats  with  broad  brims  and  round 
crowns,  which  were  placed  for  review  before  his  field- 
marshal's  eye,  and  he  spoke  reprovingly  to  his  book- 
keeper: 

"  They  are  like  mere  barbers'  basins  ;  man  is  losing 
his  dignity.  At  all  events,  we  shall  make  profit  by 
these  coverings:  no  one  notices  the  cats'-hairs  of  which 
they  are  made  ;  but  they  rob  the  head  of  the  German 
citizen  of  the  last  breath  of  fresh  air  that  he  has 
hitherto  secretly  carried  about  with  him  in  his  high 
hat.  In  my  youth  one  recognized  a  citizen  by  three 
points:  on  his  body  he  wore  a  coat  of  blue  cloth,  on 
his  head  a  black  hat,  and  in  his  pocket  a  great  house- 
key,  with  the  ring  of  which,  in  case  of  assault  by  night, 
he  could  twist  the  noses  of  assassins.  Now  he  goes 
off  in  a  gray  jacket  to  drink  his  beer,  opens  the  door 
of  the  house  with  a  small  corkscrew,  and  the  last  high 
hat  will  probably  be  bought  up  as  a  rarity  for  art  col- 
lections. You  may  immediately  put  aside  part  of  our 
manufacture  for  antiquarians." 

This  pleasant  grumbling  was  interrupted  by  Laura, 
who  entered  eagerly,  seized  her  father's  hand  with  an 
imploring  look,  and  drew  him  from  his  warehouse  into 
his  small  office.  Mr.  Hummel  submitted  to  be  thus 
led,  as  patiently  as  Lot  when  the  angel  led  him  from 
the  burning  cities  of  the  valley.  When  she  was  alone 
with  her  father  she  threw  her  arms  about  his  neck, 
kissed  and  stroked  his  cheek,  and  for  a  long  time  could 
bring  out  nothing  but  "My  good,  noble  father."  Mr. 
Hummel  was  well  pleased  with  this  stormy  fashion  of 
endearment  for  a  time. 

"  Now  I  have  had  enough  of  this  caressing.   What 


316  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

do  you  want  ?  This  introduction  is  too  grand  for  a 
new  parasol  or  a  concert  ticket." 

"  Father,"  cried  Laura,  "  I  know  all  that  you  have 
done  for  our  neighbor.  I  beg  your  forgiveness;  I, 
unfortunate  one,  have  misunderstood  your  heart,  and 
have  many  times  inwardly  resented  your  harshness." 

She  kissed  his  hands,   tears  falling  from  her  eyes. 

"  Has  that  dough-face  over  the  way  been  blabbing?" 
asked  Mr.  Hummel. 

"  He  was  obliged  to  tell  me,  and  it  was  a  happy 
moment  for  me.  Now  I  will  acknowledge  all  to  you 
with  shame  and  repentance.  Forgive  me." 

She  sank  down  before  him. 

"  Father,  I  have  long  been  sick  at  heart.  I  have 
thought  you  pitiless.  Your  eternal  grumbling  and 
enmity  to  our  neighbor  have  made  me  very  unhappy, 
and  my  life  here  has  often  been  miserable." 

Mr.  Hummel  sat  erect  and  serious,  but  a  little  dis- 
mayed at  the  confession  of  his  child,  and  he  had  an 
indistinct  impression  that  he  had  carried  his  rough 
opposition  too  far. 

"  That  is  enough,"  he  said ;  "  this  is  all  excitement 
and  imagination.  If  I  have  been  vexed  through  all 
these  years,  it  has  not  done  me  any  harm,  nor  the  peo- 
ple over  the  way  either.  It  is  an  unreasonable  sorrow 
that  now  excites  your  lamentations." 

"  Have  consideration  for  me,"  entreated  Laura. 
"An  irresistible  longing  to  go  forth  from  this  narrow 
street,  has  entered  my  soul.  Father,  I  would  like  to 
take  a  leap  into  the  world." 

"  Indeed!  "  said  Mr.  Hummel.  "  I  also  should  like 
to  take  a  leap  into  it,  if  I  only  knew  where  this  jolly 
world  could  be  found." 

"  Father,  you  have  often  told  me  how  light  was 


C^ESAREAN    INSANITY    IN    THE    HUMMEL    FAMILY.     317 

your  heart  when  you  wandered  forth  as  a  boy  from 
your  native  town,  and  that  from  these  wanderings  you 
became  a  man." 

"  That  is  true,"  replied  Hummel.  "  It  was  a  fine 
morning,  and  I  had  eight  pence  in  my  pocket.  I  was 
as  lively  as  a  dog  with  wings." 

"  Father,  I  also  should  like  to  rove  about." 

"  You?"  asked  Hummel.  "  I  have  laid  aside  my 
knapsack;  there  are  only  a  few  hairs  remaining  on  it, 
but  you  may  tie  your  boots  over  it ;  then  one  cannot 
see  it." 

"  Good  father,  I  also  want  to  go  out  and  seek  my 
way  among  strangers,  and  look  out  for  what  will  please 
me.  I  will  try  my  powers,  and  fight  my  may  with  my 
own  hands." 

"You  must  put  on  breeches,"  said  Hummel;  "you 
cannot  otherwise  go  alone  in  your  wanderings.' 

"  I  will  take  some  one  with  me,"  answered  Laura, 
softly. 

"  Our  maid  Susan  ?  She  can  carry  a  lantern  for  you. 
The  paths  in  this  world  are  sometimes  muddy." 

"  No,  father;  I  mean  the  Doctor." 

She  whispered  to  him  : 

"  I  want  the  Doctor  to  elope  with  me." 

"  Ah,  you  little  spider!"  cried  Hummel,  amazed. 
"  The  Doctor  elope  with  you!  If  you  were  to  elope 
with  him,  there  would  be  more  sense  in  it." 

"  That's  just  what  I  want  to  do,"  replied  Laura. 

"Mutually,  then!"  said  Hummel.  "Listen:  the 
matter  becomes  serious.  Leave  off  embracing  me,  keep 
your  hands  away,  and  make  a  face  beseeming  a  citizen's 
daughter  and  not  an  actress." 

He  pushed  her  down  on  the  window-seat. 

"  Now  speak  to  the  point.     So  you  intend  to  carry 


31 8  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

off  the  Doctor  ?  I  ask  you,  with  what  means  ?  For 
your  pocket-money  will  not  reach  far,  and  he  over  the 
way  has  not  much  to  spare  for  such  Sunday  pleasures? 
I  ask  you,  will  you  first  marry  him  ?  If  so,  the  elope- 
ment would  be  very  suspicious,  for  I  have  never  yet 
heard  of  a  woman  carrying  off  her  husband  by  force. 
If  you  do  not  marry  him,  there  is  something  which 
you  must  learn  from  your  mother,  and  which  is  called 
modesty.  Out  with  it!  " 

"  I  wish  to  have  him  for  a  husband,"  said  Laura, 
softly. 

"  Ah,  that  is  it,  is  it  ?  and  was  your  Doctor  ready 
to  take  charge  of  you  before  marriage,  and  to  run 
away  with  you  ?" 

"  No;  he  spoke  as  you  do,  and  reminded  me  that  I 
ought  not  to  give  you  pain." 

"  He  is  occasionally  humane,"  replied  Hummel; 
"  I  am  indeed  indebted  to  him  for  his  good  intentions. 
Finally,  I  ask  you,  where  will  you  carry  him  off  to?" 

"  To  Bielstein,  father.  There  is  the  church  in  which 
Use  was  married." 

"I  understand,"  said  Hummel,  "ours  are  too  large; 
and  what  afterwards  ?  Do  you  mean  to  work  as  a  day- 
laborer  on  the  estate  ?" 

"  Father,  if  we  could  but  travel,"  said  Laura,  im- 
ploringly. 

"  Why  not,"  replied  Mr.  Hummel,  ironically;  "  to 
America,  perhaps,  as  colleagues  of  Knips  junior  ?  You 
are  as  mad  as  a  March  hare.  The  legitimate  and  only 
daughter  of  Mr.  Hummel  will  run  away  from  her  father 
and  mother,  from  a  comfortable  house  and  flourishing 
business,  with  her  neighbor's  only  son,  who  is  in  his 
way  also  legitimate,  to  a  fools'  paradise.  I  never  could 
have  thought  that  this  hour  would  arrive." 


CSS ARE AN    INSANITY    IN    THE    HUMMEL    FAMILY.     319 

He  paced  up  and  down. 

"  Now  hear  your  father.  If  you  had  been  a  boy  I 
would  have  had  you  well  thrashed;  but  you  are  a  girl, 
and  your  mother  has  formed  you  according  to  her 
principles.  Now  I  perceive  with  regret  that  we  have 
allowed  you  to  have  your  own  way  too  much,  and  that 
you  may  be  unhappy  for  your  whole  life.  You  have 
got  the  Doctor  into  your  head,  and  you  might  as  well 
have  fixed  upon  a  tragic  hero  or  a  prince,  and  it  shocks 
me  to  think  of  it." 

"  But  I  have  not  thought  of  such,"  replied  Laura, 
dejectedly;  "  for  I  am  my  father's  daughter." 

Hummel  laid  hold  of  the  plaits  of  her  hair  and 
examined  them  critically: 

"  Obstinacy ;  but  the  mixture  is  not  throughout 
the  same;  there  is  something  of  higher  womanliness 
with  it;  fancifulness,  and  whimsical  ideas.  That  is 
the  misfortune  ;  here  a  powerful  stroke  of  the  brush  is 
necessary." 

These  words  he  repeated  several  times,  and  sat 
down  thoughtfully  on  his  chair. 

"  So  you  wish  for  my  consent  to  this  little  elope- 
ment. I  give  it  you  upon  one  condition.  The  affair 
shall  remain  between  us  two;  you  shall  do  nothing 
without  my  consent,  and  even  your  mother  must  not 
know  that  you  have  spoken  to  me  of  it.  You  shall 
take  a  drive  into  the  world,  but  in  my  way.  For  the 
rest,  I  thank  you  for  this  present  that  you  have  made 
me  on  my  birthday.  You  are  a  pretty  violet  for  me  to 
have  brought  up  !  Has  one  ever  heard  of  such  a  plant 
taking  itself  by  the  head  and  tearing  itself  out  of  the 
ground  ?" 

Laura  embraced  him  again,  and  wept. 

"Do  not  set  your  pump  again  in   motion,"  cried 


320  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

Mr.  Hummel,  untouched,  "  that  cannot  help  either  of 
us.  A  happy  journey,  Miss  Hummel." 

Laura,  however,  did  not  go,  but  remained  clinging 
to  his  neck.  The  father  kissed  her  on  the  forehead. 

"  Away  with  you;  I  must  consider  with  what  brush 
I  shall  stroke  you  smooth." 

Laura  left  the  room.  Mr.  Hummel  sat  alone  for  a 
long  time  by  his  desk,  holding  his  head  with  both 
hands.  At  last  he  began  to  whistle  in  a  low  tone  the 
old  Dessauer — a  sign  to  the  book-keeper,  who  was 
entering,  that  soft  feelings  had  the  upper  hand  with 
him. 

"  Go  across  to  the  Doctor,  and  beg  him  to  take  the 
trouble  of  coming  over  to  me  immediately." 

The  Doctor  entered  the  office.  Mr.  Hummel  rum- 
maged in  his  desk  and  brought  out  a  little  paper. 

"  Here,  I  return  you  the  present  that  you  once  made 
me." 

The  Doctor  opened  it,  and  two  little  gloves  lay 
within. 

"  You  may  give  these  gloves  to  my  daughter  on 
the  day  on  which  you  are  married  to  her,  and  you  can 
tell  her  they  come  from  her  father,  from  whom  she  has 
run  away." 

He  turned  away,  approached  the  window,  and 
thrummed  on  the  pane. 

"  I  have  already  told  you  before,  Mr.  Hummel, 
that  I  will  not  take  back  these  gloves.  Least  of  all 
will  I  do  it  for  this  purpose.  If  the  happy  day  is  ever 
to  come  to  me  when  I  can  take  Laura  to  my  home,  it 
will  only  be  when  you  put  your  daughter's  hand  in 
mine.  I  beg  you,  dear  Mr.  Hummel,  to  keep  these 
gloves  until  that  day." 

"  Much  obliged,"    replied   Hummel;    "  you   are   a 


OESAREAN    INSANITY    IN    THE    HUMMEL    FAMILY.     32! 

miserable  Don  Juan.  I  am  in  duty  bound,"  he  con- 
tinued, in  his  usual  tone,  "  to  communicate  to  you 
what  is  of  fitting  importance  to  you.  My  daughter 
Laura  wishes  to  elope  with  you." 

"  What  now  disturbs  Laura,"  answered  the  Doc- 
tor, "  and  has  given  her  these  wild  thoughts,  is  no 
secret  to  you.  She  feels  herself  oppressed  by  the  un- 
pleasant relations  which  subsist  between  us.  I  hope 
this  excitement  will  pass  away." 

"  May  I  be  allowed  to  ask  the  modest  question, 
whether  it  is  your  intention  to  agree  to  her  plan  ?  " 

"  I  will  not  do  it,"  rejoined  the  Doctor. 

"  Why  not  ?"  asked  Hummel,  coldly.  "  I  for  my 
part,  have  no  objection  to  it." 

"  That  is  one  reason  the  more  for  me  not  to  act 
inconsiderately  by  you,  nor  to  be  treated  in  a  like 
manner." 

"  I  can  bequeath  my  money  to  the  hospital." 

"  To  this  remark  I  have  only  one  answer,"  replied 
the  Doctor.  "  You  yourself  do  not  believe  that  this 
consideration  influences  my  actions." 

"  Unfortunately  not,"  replied  Hummel ;  "  you  are 
both  unpractical  people.  So  you  hope  that  I  will  at 
last  give  you  my  blessing  without  an  elopement  ?" 

"Yes,  I  do  hope  it,"  exclaimed  the  Doctor.  "How- 
ever you  may  wish  to  appear  to  me,  I  trust  that 
the  goodness  of  your  heart  will  be  greater  than  your 
aversion." 

"  Do  not  count  upon  my  indulgence,  Doctor.  I  do 
not  believe  that  I  shall  ever  prepare  a  marriage-feast 
for  you.  My  child  gives  herself  with  confidence  into 
your  hands;  take  her." 

"  No,  Mr.  Hummel,"  replied  the  Doctor,  "  I  shall 
not  do  it." 


322  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

"  Has  my  daughter  sunk  so  much  in  value  because 
she  is  ready  to  become  your  wife  ?"  asked  Mr.  Hum- 
mel, bitterly,  and  with  a  rough  voice.  "The  poor  girl 
has  acquired  some  notions  among  her  learned  ac- 
quaintances, which  do  not  suit  the  simple  life  of  her 
father." 

"  That  is  unjust  towards  us  all,  and  also  towards 
our  absent  friends,"  said  the  Doctor,  indignantly. 
"What  now  distracts  Laura  is  only  a  petty  enthusiasm; 
there  is  still  in  her  some  of  the  childish  poetry  of  her 
early  girlhood.  He  who  loves  her  may  have  perfect 
confidence  in  her  pure  soul.  Only  in  one  respect  must 
he  maintain  a  firm  judgment  in  dealing  with  her;  he 
must  here  and  there  exercise  a  mild  criticism:  But  I 
should  be  unworthy  of  the  love  of  her  pure  heart  if  I 
should  agree  to  a  hasty  proceeding,  which  would  at  a 
later  period  occasion  her  pain.  Laura  shall  not  do 
what  is  unbecoming  to  her." 

"  So  that  is  Hindoo,"  replied  Mr.  Hummel ;  "  there 
is  a  spark  of  sound  common  sense  in  your  Botocudens 
and  Brahmins.  Do  your  learned  books  also  find  an 
excuse  for  a  daughter  not  feeling  happy  in  the  house 
of  her  parents  ?" 

"  That  is  your  fault  alone,  Mr.  Hummel,"  replied 
the  Doctor. 

"  Oho!  "  said  Mr.  Hummel;  "so  that's  it." 

"  Forgive  me  my  plain  speaking,"  continued  the 
Doctor.  "  It  is  the  fashion  of  Laura's  father  to  play 
the  tyrant  a  little  in  his  family,  in  spite  of  all  his  love 
for  them.  Laura  has  from  her  childhood  been  accus- 
tomed to  view  your  strange  nature  with  fear ;  therefore 
she  does  not  form  the  impartial  conception  of  your 
character,  nor  feel  the  pleasure  in  your  mischievous 
humors  that  those  not  so  intimately  acquainted  enjoy. 


CiESAREAN    INSANITY    IN    THE    HUMMEL    FAMILY.     323 

If  you  had  seen  Laura's  transport  when  I  made  known 
to  her  what  you  had  done  for  my  father,  you  would 
never  doubt  her  heart.  Now  she  is  overcome  with 
anguish  about  our  future.  But  you  may  be  as- 
sured, if  Laura  were  to  give  in  to  her  fancy  and  sep- 
arate herself  from  her  parents'  house,  she  would  soon 
feel  gnawing  repentance  and  longing  for  her  parents. 
Therefore,  the  man  for  whom  she  would  now  make 
this  sacrifice  acts  not  only  honorably,  but  also  pru- 
dently, in  resisting  it." 

Mr.  Hummel  looked  fiercely  at  the  Doctor. 

"  There  is  the  old  bear  tied  to  a  stake,  the  young 
puppies  pull  at  his  fur,  and  the  cocks  crow  over  his 
head.  Take  warning  by  my  fate  ;  under  all  circum- 
stances avoid  having  female  offspring."  He  put  his 
hand  upon  the  gloves,  packed  them  up  again,  smoothed 
the  paper,  and  shut  them  in  his  writing-desk.  "Thus 
shall  I  lock  up  again  my  unnatural  child  ;  for  the  rest 
I  remain  your  devoted  servant.  So  your  old  Hindoos 
tell  you  that  I  am  a  droll  screech-owl,  and  a  jolly  bon- 
vivant  to  strangers.  Is  that  your  opinion  of  my  natural 
propensities?" 

"  You  are  not  quite  so  innocent,"  replied  the  Doc- 
tor, with  a  bow.  "  To  me  you  have  been  always  par- 
ticularly rude." 

"There -is  no  one  I  would  rather  wrangle  with  than 
with  you,"  acknowledged  Mr.  Hummel. 

The  Doctor  bowed,  and  said: 

"  When  you  play  with  other  men  as  with  cats,  they 
only  bear  such  treatment  because  they  perceive  good 
intentions  under  your  cross-grained  exterior.  I  can 
say  this  to  you,  because  I  am  one  of  the  few  men  to 
whom  you  have  shown  real  dislike  ;  and,  as  you  are 
also  obstinate,  I  know  very  well  that  I  shall  still  have 


324  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

to  have  many  a  tilt  with  you,  and  I  am  not  at  all  sure 
how  it  will  end  between  us.  That,  however,  does  not 
prevent  my  acknowledging  the  bitter  amiability  of  your 
nature." 

"  I  object  to  any  further  enlightenment  as  to  my 
real  character,"  exclaimed  Mr.  Hummel.  "  You  have 
a  disagreeable  way  of  viewing  your  fellowmen  mi- 
croscopically. I  protest  against  your  painting  me  like 
a  flea  in  the  shadow  on  the  wall.  As  concerns  your 
proceedings  as  my  daughter's  lover,  I  am  content  with 
them.  You  do  not  choose  to  take  my  child  in  the  way 
in  which  she  is  to  be  had  ;  I  thank  you  for  your  scru- 
ples. In  this  matter  we  are  entirely  of  the  same  opin- 
ion, and  you  therefore  shall  not  have  her  at  all." 

The  Doctor  wished  to  interrupt  him,  but  Hummel 
waved  his  hand. 

"  All  further  talk  is  useless ;  you  renounce  my 
daughter,  but  you  preserve  the  esteem  of  her  father, 
and  you  have  moreover  the  feeling  of  acting  for  the 
best  for  Laura.  As  you  feel  such  great  uprightness, 
you  may  console  yourself  with  it.  You  will  devote 
yourself  to  celibacy,  and  I  should  envy  you,  if  it  were 
not  for  the  consideration  of  Madame  Hummel." 

"  This  will  not  avail,  Mr.  Hummel,"  replied  the 
Doctor;  "I  have  not  the  least  intention  of  renouncing 
Laura's  hand." 

"I  understand,"  replied  Mr.  Hummel;  "you  wish  to 
besiege  my  daughter  still,  from  across  the  street.  This 
quiet  pleasure  I  can,  unfortunately  no  longer  allow, 
for  I  am  certainly  of  opinion  that  Laura  must  at  some 
time  leave  my  house;  and  as  you  have  chosen  the  good 
opinion  of  the  father  rather  than  the  daughter,  we  will 
confer  on  this  point  in  mutual  understanding.  You 
are  mistaken  if  you  think  that  my  daughter  Laura  will 


C<ESAREAN    INSANITY    IN    THE    HUMMEL    FAMILY.     325 

give  up  her  fancies  upon  wise  admonition.  Have  you 
not  sometimes  appealed  to  my  conscience  ?  It  was 
all  that  could  be  expected,  considering  your  age  ;  but 
it  has  been  of  no  avail  with  me.  It  will  be  the  same 
with  this  obstinate  child.  Therefore  I  am,  as  a  father, 
of  opinion  that  we  must  give  in  to  a  certain  degree  to 
the  folly  of  my  child.  Consider  how  far  you  can  go  to 
please  us.  She  wishes  to  join  the  Professor's  wife. 
She  shall  not  go  to  this  capital  where  my  lodger  has 
no  home,  but  she  has  frequently  been  invited  to  Biel- 
stein." 

The  Doctor  answered: 

"  I  have  urgent  reasons  for  going  to  my  friend 
during  the  next  few  days.  I  will  gladly  make  a  detour 
by  Bielstein,  if  you  will  allow  me  to  accompany  Laura 
on  this  journey,  I  shall  make  no  secret  of  its  purpose, 
— and  least  of  all  to  my  parents." 

"  This  elopement  is  so  shabby  that,  were  I  a  girl, 
I  should  be  ashamed  of  taking  part  in  it.  But  one 
must  not  expect  too  much  of  you.  I  will  not  be  at 
home  when  this  departure  takes  place:  you  see,  that  is 
natural.  I  have  already  made  my  plans  concerning  my 
child's  future.  I  give  her  over  to  you  for  the  journey 
with  confidence." 

"  Mr.  Hummel,"  exclaimed  the  Doctor,  disquieted, 
"  I  ask  for  still  greater  confidence.  How  have  you 
decided  concerning  Laura's  future?" 

"  As  you  have  determined  to  show  me  such  respect, 
I  beg  you  will  be  content  with  the  confidential  inti- 
mation, that  I  have  no  intention  of  making  you  any 
such  communication.  You  preserve  my  esteem,  and 
I  my  daughter.  My  compact  is  concluded." 

"  But  the  compact  is  not  quite  satisfactory  to  me, 
Mr.  Hummel,"  answered  the  Doctor. 


326  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

"  Hold  your  tongue.  If  in  consequence  of  this 
agreement  you  resume  your  theatrical  career,  I  should 
advise  you  never  to  act  the  role  of  lover.  The  audiences 
will  run  out  of  all  the  doors.  Do  I  treat  people  like 
cats? — So  I  treated  your  father  and  his  flowers  this 
morning.  You  can  give  him  an  intimation  of  that.  My 
wife  has  plucked  to-day  a  few  roosters  for  my  birth- 
day; if  roasting  these  namesakes  of  yours  does  not 
excite  painful  feelings  in  you,  it  will  give  me  pleasure 
to  see  you  at  dinner.  You  will  not  be  under  the  em- 
barrassment of  having  to  talk  only  to  my  daughter, 
for  the  family  clown  is  invited:  he  will  keep  up  the  con- 
versation— you  may  be  silent.  Good  morning,  Doctor." 

The  Doctor  again  stretched  out  his  hand  to  him. 
Mr.  Hummel  shook  it,  grumbling  all  the  while.  When 
he  was  again  alone  in  his  office  the  melody  of  the  old 
Dessauer  again  sounded  in  the  narrow  room,  now 
brisk  and  hearty.  Then,  soon  after,  Mr.  Hummel  broke 
forth  with  the  second  of  the  two  airs — "the  Dear 
Violet " — to  which  he  had  recourse  when  in  an  un- 
constrained humor.  At  last  he  mixed  up  the  drum- 
ming of  the  Dessauer  with  "  the  Dear  Violet "  in  an 
artistic  medley.  The  book-keeper,  who  knew  that  this 
pot  pourri  betokened  a  state  of  the  highest  spring 
warmth,  popped  his  face,  smiling  respectfully,  into  the 
office. 

"  You  may  come  to  dinner  to-day,"  said  Mr.  Hum- 
mel, graciously. 

CHAPTER  XXXIV. 
OLD    ACQUAINTANCES. 

SINCE  the  conversation  upon  the  Roman  emper- 
ors, the  Sovereign  had  withdrawn  for  a  few  days  from 


OLD    ACQUAINTANCES.  327 

his  Court.  He  was  ill.  His  nervous  prostration,  as 
the  physicians  declared,  was  the  usual  consequence  of 
a  cold.  Only  a  few  privileged  persons — among  them 
Master  Knips — had  access  to  him  during  this  time, 
and  they  had  no  cause  to  rejoice  in  their  confidential 
position,  for  it  was  difficult  to  deal  with  the  princely 
invalid. 

To-day  the  Sovereign  was  sitting  in  his  study ;  be- 
fore him  stood  an  old  official,  with  a  weazen  face,  re- 
porting the  daily  occurrences  of  the  capital,  opinions 
which  were  expressed  in  public  places  concerning  the 
Sovereign  and  his  illustrious  house,  small  scandalous 
family  anecdotes,  also  observations  that  had  been 
made  in  the  palace  to  which  the  Princess  had  gone 
within  the  last  few  days,  and  the  persons  she  had  seen 
there.  Prince  Victor  paid  daily  visits  to  the  Baroness 
Hallstein,  and  passed  the  evening  with  the  officers  of 
his  former  regiment;  he  had  returned  unexpectedly 
that  morning. 

"How  do  things  go  on  in  the  Pavilion?"  asked  the 
Sovereign. 

"  According  to  the  account  of  the  lackey,  there 
have  been  no  visitors  from  the  city,  nor  any  letters ; 
everything  as  usual  in  the  afternoon.  When  the 
strangers  were  sitting  in  front  of  the  door,  the  lady 
had  spoken  of  a  journey  to  Switzerland,  but  her  hus- 
band replied  that  there  could  be  no  thought  of  it  until 
he  had  finished  his  business.  Then  there  had  been  an 
uncomfortable  silence.  In  the  evening  both  attended 
the  theatre." 

The  Sovereign  nodded,  and  dismissed  the  official. 
As  he  sat  alone,  he  pushed  his  chair  against  the  wall, 
and  listened  to  the  sound  of  a  small  bell  which,  from 
the  further  end  of  the  room,  was  scarcely  audible ;  he 


328  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

hastily  opened  the  door  of  a  niche  in  the  wall,  and 
took  out  the  letters  which  a  confidential  secretary 
had  sent  up  through  a  tube  from  the  lower  story. 
There  were  various  handwritings  :  he  passed  quickly 
through  the  contents.  At  last  he  held  a  bundle 
of  children's  letters  in  his  hand.  Again  he  laughed.  "  So 
the  great  ball  has  burst  already."  His  countenance 
became  serious.  "  A  genuine  peasant,  he  has  no  sense 
for  the  honor  of  having  the  top-boots  of  a  prince  among 
his  fields."  He  took  another  letter.  "  The  Hered- 
itary Prince  to  his  sister.  It  is  the  first  letter  of  the 
pious  John  Patmos,  saying  nothing,  as  if  it  had  been 
written  for  me.  That  may  possibly  be  so.  The  con- 
tents are  scanty  and  cold.  He  expresses  the  wish  that 
his  sister  also  may  pass  a  pleasant  time  in  the  country. 
We  wish  the  same,"  he  continued,  with  good  humor  ; 
"  she  may  pluck  flowers  and  talk  with  scholars  about 
the  virtues  of  Roman  ladies.  This  wish  shall  be 
fulfilled  by  all  parties."  He  laid  the  letters  back  in 
the  niche,  and  pressed  a  spring  in  the  floor  with  his 
foot ;  there  was  a  slight  rustling  in  the  wall,  and  the 
packet  glided  down. 

The  Sovereign  raised  himself  from  his  chair  and 
walked  about  the  room. 

"  My  thoughts  hover  restlessly  about  this  man.  I 
have  received  him  with  complaisance ;  I  have  even 
treated  his  insane  hopes  with  the  greatest  considera- 
tion, and  yet  this  unpractical  dreamer  mocks  at  me. 
Why  did  he  make  this  insidious  attack  on  me  ?  He 
did  it  with  the  malicious  penetration  of  a  diseased 
person,  who  knows  better  than  a  sound  one  what  is  de- 
ficient in  another.  His  prating  was  half  vague  reflec- 
tion and  half  the  silly  cunning  of  a  fool  who  also  car- 
ries about  him  a  worm  in  his  brain.  It  does  not  mat- 


OLD    ACQUAINTANCES.  329 

ter:  we  know  one  another,  as  the  Augur  knew  his 
colleagues.  Between  us  a  family  hatred  burns,  such 
as  can  only  exist  between  relations — an  enduring, 
thorough  hatred,  which  conceals  itself  beneath  smiles 
and  polite  bows.  Trick  for  trick,  my  Roman  cousin. 
You  seek  a  manuscript  which  lies  concealed  with  me, 
but  I  something  else,  which  you  would  withhold  from 
me." 

He  sank  back  in  his  chair,  and  looked  timidly 
towards  the  door  ;  then  put  his  hand  into  a  pile  of 
books,  and  drew  out  a  translation  of  Tacitus.  He 
tapped  the  book  with  his  finger. 

"He  who  wrote  this  was  also  diseased.  He  spied 
incessantly  into  the  souls  of  his  masters  ;  their  pictures 
so  filled  his  fancy,  that  the  Roman  people  and  the 
millions  of  other  men  appeared  unimportant  to  him : 
he  suspected  every  step  of  his  rulers,  yet  neither  he 
nor  his  generation  could  do  without  them.  He  gazed 
at  them  as  on  suns,  the  eclipse  of  which  he-  investi- 
gated, and  which  reflected  their  light  on  him,  the  little 
planet.  He  began  to  doubt  the  wisdom  of  the  order 
of  things ;  and  that  to  every  human  mind  is  the  be- 
ginning of  the  end.  But  he  had  wit  enough  to  see 
that  his  masters  became  diseased  through  the  miser- 
able meanness  of  those  like  himself,  and  his  best  policy 
was  that  of  the  old  High  Steward,  to  bear  all  with  a 
silent  obeisance." 

He  opened  the  leaves. 

"  Only  one,  whom  he  has  included  in  his  book," 
he  began  again,  "was  a  man,  whom  it  moves  one  to 
read  about.  This  was  the  gloomy  majesty  of  Tiberius  : 
he  knew  the  rabble,  and  despised  them,  till  the  miserable 
slaves  at  last  placed  him  among  the  madmen.  Do  you 
know,  Professor  Tacitus,  why  the  great  Emperor  be- 


330  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

came  a  weak  fool  ?  No  one  knows  it — no  one  on  earth 
but  me,  and  those  like  me.  He  went  mad  because  he 
could  not  cease  to  be  a  man  of  feeling.  He  despised 
many  and  hated  many,  and  yet  he  could  not  do  without 
the  childish  feeling  of  loving  and  trusting.  A  common 
youth,  who  had  once  shown  him  personal  devotion, 
caught  hold  of  this  fancy  of  his  earthly  life,  and  dragged 
the  powerful  mind  down  with  him  into  the  dirt.  A 
miserable  weakness  of  heart  converted  the  stern  poli- 
tician of  Imperial  Rome  into  a  fool.  The  weak  feelings 
that  rise  up  in  lonely  hours  are  the  undoing  of  us  all ; 
indestructible  is  this  longing  for  a  pure  heart  and  a 
true  spirit — undying  the  seeking  after  the  ideal  con- 
dition of  man,  which  is  described  by  the  poet  and  be- 
lieved in  by  the  pedant."  He  sighed  deeply  ;  his  head 
sank  on  the  table  between  his  hands. 

There  was  a  slight  sound  at  the  door.  The  Sov- 
ereign started.  The  servant  announced — "  The  Grand 
Marshal  von  Bergau."  The  Grand  Marshal  entered. 

"The  Princess  inquired  at  what  hour  your  High- 
ness will  take  leave  of  her." 

"Take  leave?"  asked  the  Sovereign,  reflecting. 
"Why?" 

"Your  Highness  has  been  pleased  to  order  that  the 
Princess  shall  this  morning  go  to  her  summer  castle 
for  a  few  days." 

"It  is  true,"  replied  the  Sovereign.  "  I  am  well  to- 
day, dear  Bergau,  and  will  breakfast  with  the  Princess. 
Will  it  be  agreeable  to  you  to  accompany  her?"  he 
asked,  kindly. 

"  I  am  very  grateful  to  my  gracious  master  for  this 
favor,"  replied  the  Grand  Marshal,  honestly. 

"  What  lady  has  the  Princess  chosen  as  her  at- 
tendant ?" 


OLD    ACQUAINTANCES.  331 

"  As  your  Highness  has  given  her  the  choice,  she 
has  decided  upon  Lady  Gottlinde." 

"  I  agree  to  that,"  said  the  Sovereign  graciously. 
The  good  Lady  Gottlinde  may  be  invited  to  break- 
fast, and  you  yourself  may  come  also,  that  I  may  see 
you  all  once  more  about  me  before  the  journey.  I 
have  one  more  thing  to  say.  Mr  Werner  will  follow 
you  ;  he  wishes  to  examine  the  rooms  and  chests  of 
the  castle  for  his  scientific  purposes.  Render  him 
assistance  in  every  way,  and  show  him  the  greatest 
attention.  I  have  also  a  confidential  commission  for  you." 

The  Grand  Marshal  made  a  piteous  face,  which 
plainly  indicated  a  protest. 

"  I  wish  to  win  for  us  this  distinguished  man," 
continued  the  Sovereign.  "  Sound  him  as  to  what 
place  or  distinction  would  be  acceptable  to  him.  I 
wish  you  to  observe  that  I  am  most  anxious  to  keep 
him." 

The  Grand  Marshal,  much  discomposed,  answered: 

"  I  assure  your  Highness,  with  the  greatest  respect, 
that  I  know  how  to  value  your  confidence,  yet  this 
commission  fills  me  with  consternation  ;  for  it  exposes 
me  to  the  danger  of  exciting  the  displeasure  of-  my 
gracious  master.  I  have  had  opportunities  of  remark- 
ing that  one  cannot  count  upon  gratitude  from  these 
people." 

"  You  must  not  offer  him  anything  ;  only  endeavor 
to  make  him  express  some  wish,"  replied  the  Sov- 
ereign dryly." 

"  But  if  this  wish  should  exceed  the  bounds  of 
moderation?"  asked  the  Marshal  hesitatingly. 

"  Take  care  not  to  object  to  it ;  leave  it  to  me  to 
decide  whether  I  consider  it  immoderate.  Send  me 
a  report  immediately." 


332  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

The  Sovereign  gave  the  signal  of  dismissal ; 
watched  sharply  his  bow  and  departure,  and  looked 
after  the  departing  gentleman  and  gravely  shook  his 
head. 

"  He  is  not  old,  and  yet  the  curse  has  overtaken 
him  ;  he  becomes  grotesque.  Here  is  another  riddle  of 
human  nature  for  you  learned  gentlemen  :  the  person 
who  has  every  hour  to  control  his  countenance  and  man- 
ner, to  whom  the  most  rigid  tact  and  correct  forms  are 
necessary  in  his  daily  intercourse,  should,  just  when  he 
becomes  older,  lose  this  best  acquisition  of  his  life,  and 
become  troublesome  by  his  weak  chattering  and  un- 
restrained egotism.  You  know  how  to  answer,  Em- 
peror Tiberius,  why  your  service,  clever  man,  grad- 
ually made  your  servants  caricatures  of  your  own 
character  ?  Now  they  have  revenged  themselves  on 
you  ;  it  is  all  right.  There  is  a  desperate  rationality 
in  the  links  of  the  world.  O  misery,  misery,  that  we 
should  both  have  so  little  cause  to  rejoice  at  it !" 

He  groaned,  and  again  buried  his  head  in  his  hands. 

* 
*  * 

Shortly  after  Use  received  the  latest  letters  from 
home. 

"  How  can  the  four-leaved  clover  be  lost  out  of  a 
well  closed  letter  ?"  she  asked  her  husband.  "  Luise, 
on  her  birthday,  found  some  clover  leaves  and  sent 
them  in  her  former  letter,  to  bring  you  good  luck. 
The  child  is  just  at  the  age  in  which  such  nonsense 
gives  pleasure.  The  dried  clover  was  not  in  her  let- 
ter, and  as  she  is  careless,  I  scolded  her  for  it  in  my 
answer.  To-day  she  assures  me  that  she  put  them 
into  the  envelope  the  last  thing." 

"  It  may  have  fallen  out  when  you  opened  the  let- 
ter," said  the  Professor  consolingly. 


OLD    ACQUAINTANCES.  333 

"  My  father  is  not  contented  with  us,"  continued 
Use,  discomposed  ;  "he  does  not  like  it  that  the  Prince 
has  come  into  the  vicinity  ;  he  fears  distraction  in  the 
farm  and  gossip.  Yet  why  should  people  gossip  ? 
Clara  is  still  half  a  child,  and  the  prince  does  not  live 
upon  our  estate.  There  is  a  dark  cloud  over  every- 
thing," she  said  ;  "  the  light  of  the  dear  sun  has  ceased 
to  shine.  Nothing  but  disturbances,  the  Sovereign 
ill,  and  our  Hereditary  Prince  vanishes  as  if  swept 
away  by  a  storm.  How  could  he  go  away  without 
bidding  us  good-bye?  I  cannot  set  my  mind  to  rest 
as  to  that ;  for  we  have  not  deserved  it  of  him,  nor  of 
his  courtly  Chamberlain.  I  fear  he  does  not  go  into 
the  country  willinghy;  and  he  is  angry  with  me,  Felix, 
because  I  said  something  about  it.  No  good  will  come 
of  it,  and  it  makes  me  heavy  at  heart." 

"  If  this  trouble  leaves  you  any  thought  for  the  af- 
fairs of  other  people,"  began  the  Professor,  gaily, 
"  you  must  allow  me  a  small  share.  I  think  I  have 
found  the  hidden  castle  which  I  have  so  long  sought. 
I  see  from  this  chronicle  that  in  the  last  century  the 
country  seat  to  which  the  Princess  is  going  was  sur- 
rounded by  a  forest.  I  hear  that  in  this  remote  place 
much  old  household  rubbish  is  preserved.  I  feel  like 
a  child  on  the  eve  of  its  birthday.  I  have  made 
known  my  wishes  to  fate,  and  when  I  think  of  the 
hour  when  the  present  shall  come  to  me,  I  feel  the 
same  heart-beating  expectation  which  scares  away 
sleep  from  the  boy.  It  is  childish,  Use,"  he  continued, 
holding  out  his  hand  to  his  wife,  "  I  know  it  is  ;  but 
have  patience  with  me  ;  I  have  long  wearied  you  with 
my  dreams,  but  now  it  will  come  to  an  end.  The  hope 
indeed  will  not  come  to  an  end,  but  this  is  the  last 
place  I  have  any  reason  to  search  for  it." 


334  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

"  But  if  it  should  again  happen  that  you  do  not 
find  the  book  ?"  asked  Use,  sorrowfully,  holding  his 
hand. 

A  gloomy  expression  came  over  the  Professor's 
face  ;  he  turned  around  abruptly,  and  said,  harshly  : 

"  Then  I  shall  seek  further.  If  Fritz  had  but 
come !" 

"  Was  he  to  come  ?"  asked  Use,  with  surprise. 

"  I  have  requested  him  to  do  so,"  replied  her  hus- 
band. "He  answered  that  his  father's  business  and 
his  relations  with  Laura  prevented  him.  To  him  also 
it  appears  that  a  crisis  is  impending  ;  he  has  suspi- 
cions with  respect  to  the  specification  that  I  found 
here,  which  I  consider  unfounded." 

"  Oh,  that  he  were  with  us!"  said  Use  ;  "  I  long  for 
a  friendly  face,  like  one  who  has  for  many  days  been 
traveling  through  a  desert  wilderness." 

The  Professor  pointed  towards  the  window. 

"This  wilderness  looks  tolerably  humanized,  and  a 
visitor,  such  as  you  desire,  seems  already  coming  up 
to  the  house." 

Use  heard  the  rumble  of  wheels  coming  along  the 
gravel  of  the  castle  road.  A  carriage  stopped  be- 
fore the  Pavilion,  and  the  country  coachman  cracked 
his  whip.  The  servants  hastened  to  the  door  ;  Gabriel 
opened  the  carriage  door  ;  a  little  lady  descended, 
gave  a  parcel  to  the  lackey  and  a  bandbox  to  Gabriel, 
and  called  out  to  the  coachman  to  inquire  about  put- 
ting up  the  horses.  She  hastily  ascended  the  steps,  and, 
as  she  did  so,  gazed  on  the  paintings  and  carved  scrolls. 

"This  is  a  great  pleasure,  Mrs.  Rollmaus,"  ex- 
claimed Use,  delighted,  meeting  her  at  the  door. 

The  Professor  hastened  to  the  stranger  and  offered 
her  his  arm. 


OLD    ACQUAINTANCES.  335 

"  My  dear  Use,"  cried  the  little  lady ;  "  revered 
and  highly  honored  Professor,  here  I  am.  As  Roll- 
maus  has  been  charged  with  the  superintendence  of 
an  estate  in  the  neighborhood,  in  trust  for  a  nephew, 
and  as  he  has  had  to  travel  into  this  country  to  put 
things  in  order,  and  will  stop  only  a  short  time,  I 
thought  I  would  take  the  pleasure  of  paying  you  a  visit. 
Your  father,  brothers,  and  sisters  wish  to  be  remem- 
bered to  you.  Clara  is  growing  up  the  very  image  of  you." 

"  Come  in,  come  in,"  said  Use  ;  you  yourself  are 
the  best  greeting  from  home." 

Mrs.  Rollmaus  stopped  at  the  door. 

"  Only  a  moment,"  she  said,  pointing  to  the  bandbox. 

"You  come  to  old  friends." 

"  You  must  allow  me  however,  that  I  may  not  dis- 
grace this  princely  house." 

Mrs.  Rollmaus  was  taken  into  an  adjoining  room, 
the  bandbox  opened,  and,  after  the  best  cap  was  put 
on,  as  well  as  white  collar  and  cuffs,  the  learned  lady 
floated  into  the  sitting-room  with  Use. 

"Magnificent,"  she  exclaimed,  looking  with  admi- 
ration at  the  ceiling,  where  the  god  of  love  held  out 
to  her  his  bunches  of  poppies.  "One  can  see  at  once 
by  the  cross-bow  that  it  is  a  Cupid  ;  one  frequently 
sees  them  on  gingerbread  figures,  where  they  stand 
between  two  burning  hearts.  Dear  Professor,  the 
pleasure  of  meeting  again,  and  in  such  surroundings, 
is  truly  very  great.  I  have  long  looked  forward  with 
pleasure  to  this  hour,  when  I  could  express  to  you  my 
thanks  for  the  last  book  you  sent  me,  in  which  I  have 
gotten  as  far  as  the  Reformation.  Rollmaus  would 
gladly  have  come  with  me,  but  he  has  business  to  at- 
tend to  in  the  distillery  on  account  of  the  old  boiler, 
which  must  be  removed." 


336  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

During  this  speech  the  eye  of  Mrs.  Rollmaus  wan- 
dered inquisitively  into  every  corner  of  the  room. 

"Who  would  have  thought,  dear  Use,  that  you  and 
the  Professor  would  have  come  into  friendly  relations 
with  our  princely  personages?  I  must  confess  to  you 
that  I  have  already  looked  about  me  in  driving  here 
for  the  princely  court-yard,  which,  however,  probably 
lies  on  the  other  side,  as  I  see  only  gardens  here." 

"There  are  no  offices  at  the  castle,"  explained  Use, 
"  only  the  stable  and  the  large  kitchen  have  remained." 

"They  say  there  are  six  cooks,"  rejoined  Mrs. 
Rollmaus,  "who  are  all  great  head-cooks;  although  I 
do  not  know  for  what  other  part  of  the  human  body 
they  could  be  cooking.  But  the  originalities  of  a  Court 
are  very  great, — amongst  which  are  the  silver-cleaners, 
who,  I  verily  believe,  do  not  do  their  duty  ;  at  least, 
the  small  coin  in  our  country  is  very  dirty,  and  a  great 
scouring  day  would  be  necessary  for  them.  They  say 
that  the  young  Prince  has  now  gone  to  the  Chief  For- 
ester's lodge.  Our  Chief  Forester  is  fully  occupied  ; 
he  grumbles  over  this  royal  quartering,  and  has  or- 
dered himself  a  new  uniform." 

She  became  serious  and  thoughtful,  and  there  ensued 
an  awkward  pause,  during  which  she  rubbed  her  nose, 
looked  at  Use  good-humoredly,  and  pressed  her  hand. 

"  There  appears  to  be  a  storm  coming,"  she  con- 
tinued, in  a  low  tone,  "  and  the  country  gentlemen  com- 
plain that  the  spring  grub  has  eaten  the  rapeseed. 
Here,  indeed,  it  seems  like  a  paradise,  although  I 
hope  that  no  wild  beasts  rove  about  here,  and  it  is 
not  the  season  to  pluck  the  apples  from  the  trees  with 
pleasure.  Something  seems  to  have  turned  up  in  the 
capital  which  is  very  remarkable  ;  for  as  I  came  to  the 
estate  with  Rollmaus,  the  Inspector  told  me  of  a  fortune- 


OLD    ACQUAINTANCES.  337 

teller  who  prophesied  wonderful  things  of  the  people  of 
this  city.     Do  you  know  anything  certain  about  her?" 

"We  have  few  acquaintances,"  answered  Use;  "we 
only  get  news  from  the  papers." 

"  I  should  be  glad  to  hear  something  about  that 
person,  for  I  have  latterly  begun  the  study  of  phren- 
ology ;  and  I  hear,  dear  Professor,  that  these  investi- 
gations are  much  combated.  I  do  not  myself  feel  sure 
about  them.  I  have  examined  the  head  of  Rollmaus, 
and  am  surprised  to  see  how  much  the  bump  of  de- 
struction is  developed  behind  his  ear,  though  he  is  an- 
noyed at  every  cup-handle  the  maid  servants  break. 
Nevertheless,  dear  Professor,  I  find  the  powers  of 
thought  shown  upon  your  brow.  The  bumps  are  very 
large,  by  which  I  do  not  mean  to  say  that  they  are  un- 
becoming to  you.  But  to  return  to  the  fortune-teller. 
She  told  the  Inspector  that  he  was  married,  and  had 
two  children,  and  that  his  wife  was  dead,  and  that  he 
wished  to  take  another,  who  would  add  two  more. 
This  is  all  correct,  for  he.  is  again  courting.  Now,  I 
ask  you,  how  could  this  person  know  it?  " 

"Perhaps  she  knows  the  Inspector?"  replied  the 
Professor,  rummaging  among  his  papers.  "  I  advise 
you  not  to  confide  in  her  art,  and  I  do  not  recommend 
to  you  the  study  of  phrenology.  But  now  let  us  know 
how  long  you  can  remain  with  us.  I  am  obliged  to  go 
to  the  Museum,  and  hope  to  find  you  on  my  return." 

"  I  can  remain  a  few  hours,"  said  Mrs.  Rollmaus. 
"  I  have  three  miles  to  go,  but  the  roads  here  are  bet- 
ter than  with  us.  Although  now  our  highway  is  being 
built,  and  the  road  commissioners  already  go  along  it 
to.  the  town  of  Rossau.  Only  think,  dear  Use,  the 
stone  bridge  between  your  estate  and  the  town  is 
already  pulled  down,  but  they  have  put  up  a  tempo- 


THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 


rary  one  in  its  stead.  For  a  few  hours,  then,  I  beg  of 
you  to  be  satisfied  with  my  company." 

The  Professor  went  away  ;  the  ladies  talked  con- 
fidentially over  the  family  at  home,  during  which  Mrs. 
Rollmaus  could  not  entirely  give  up  her  scientific  inves- 
tigations ;  for,  in  the  middle  of  the  conversation,  she  put 
her  fingers  on  Use's  temples,  and  begged  permission 
to  feel  the  crown  of  her  head  ;  whereupon  she  said, 
with  much  delight,  "  There  is  much  sincerity  there,  as 
I  should  have  supposed."  She  then  looked  signifi- 
cantly at  Use.  She  was  loquacious  and  flippant,  but 
she  showed  a  degree  of  restraint  which  Use  attributed 
to  the  strangeness  of  the  place. 

After  Mrs.  Rollmaus  had  admired  the  dwelling, 
criticized  the  pictures,  and  felt  the  texture  of  the  fur- 
niture coverings,  Use  pointed  to  the  sun,  which  was 
breaking  through  the  clouds,  and  proposed  that  they 
should  walk  out  into  the  park.  Mrs.  Rollmaus  as- 
sented' with  pleasure,  and  Use  had  much  to  do  to  an- 
swer the  questions  of  the  excitable  lady.  Then  they 
came  to  a  part  of  the  grounds  which  served  as  a 
promenade  at  this  hour  for  the  ladies  and  people  of 
the  city.  "What  a  surprise,"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Roll- 
maus, suddenly  seizing  Use's  arm,  "  the  princely  liv- 
ery." At  a  turn  in  the  path,  the  hat  of  a  lackey  be- 
came visible  ;  the  Princess,  accompanied  by  Lady 
Gottlinde  and  Prince  Victor,  came  directly  towards 
them.  Amidst  the  respectful  greetings  of  the  prom- 
enaders,  the  princely  party  approached.  Use  stepped 
aside,  and  curtsied.  The  Princess  stopped.  "We  were 
on  the  point  of  calling  on  you,"  she  began,  kindly  ; 
"  my  brother  was  obliged  to  leave  suddenly  ;  he  will 
have  told  your  father  how  sorry  he  was  that  he  could 
not  take  any  messages  from  you  to  your  family."  She 


OLD    ACQUAINTANCES.  339 

gave  a  passing  look  at  Mrs.  Rollmaus,  who  was  sup- 
porting herself  with  both  her  hands  on  her  umbrella, 
bending  her  head  forward,  not  to  lose  a  syllable  that 
fell  from  the  lips  of  the  princely  lady.  Use  mentioned 
her  name. 

"  A  kind  friend  from  the  neighborhood  of  Rossau, 
who  is  spending  a  few  days  near  here." 

Mrs.  Rollmaus  ducked  down  very  low,  and,  almost 
unconscious  from  terror,  said :  "It  is  only  three  miles 
from  here,  in  Toadville  ;  although,  if  I  may,  by  your 
Highness's  permission,  be  graciously  allowed  to  say  so, 
there  are  no  more  toads  there  than  in  any  other  re- 
spectable place." 

"  You  are  taking  a  walk,"  said  the  Princess,  to 
Use,  "  will  you  accompany  me  a  little  way?"  She 
beckoned  Use  to  her  side,  placing  herself  between  her 
and  the  lady  in  waiting.  Prince  Victor  remained  be- 
hind with  Mrs  Rollmaus. 

"  So  toads  are  not  pastured  on  your  estate?"  began 
the  Prince. 

"  No,  my  gracious ,"  replied  Mrs.  Rollmaus, 

embarrassed,  supporting  herself  on  her  umbrella.  "  I 
do  not  really  know  what  is  the  right  title  to  address 
you  with." 

"  Prince  Victor,"  replied  the  young  gentleman, 
carelessly. 

"  I  beg  your  pardon  ;  but  this  honorable  name  does 
not  satisfy  me.  May  I  beg  to  know  the  other  title, 
similar  to  what,  in  the  case  of  pastors,  would  be  ex- 
pressed by  Very  Reverend  ?  For  to  offend  princely 
persons  would  not  be  pleasant,  and  I  am  not  convers- 
ant with  these  forms  of  address." 

"  High  and  honorable  lady,  you  may  call  me  High- 
ness ;  thus  we  shall  both  have  our  rights." 


340  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

"  It  shall  be  as  you  command,"  exclaimed  Mrs. 
Rollmaus,  delighted. 

"  You  have  long  known  the  Professor's  wife  ?" 

"  From  her  childhood,"  explained  Mrs.  Rollmaus; 
"  I  was  a  friend  of  her  deceased  mother,  and  I  can 
truly  say  that  I  have  shared  both  happiness  and  sor- 
row with  our  dear  Use.  Prince  Victor,  it  is  impossible 
for  your  Highness  to  know  her  true  heart  as  well  as 
we  do.  Latterly,  through  her  learned  acquaintances, 
she  has  come  into  another  atmosphere  ;  but  long 
before  her  betrothal  it  was  clear  to  me  that  it  would 
be  a  match." 

"  Good,"  said  the  Prince.  "  How  long  do  you  re- 
main in  the  neighborhood?" 

"  Only  until  the  end  of  the  week  ;  for  Rollmaus 
prefers  the  country  to  the  city,  which  is  not  to  be  won- 
dered at ;  he  has  not  the  inclination  for  intellectual 
pursuits  by  which  I  am  inspired.  For  this  there  is 
more  opportunity  in  the  city,  although  one,  even  in 
the  country,  can  make  one's  observations  on  heads 
and  other  natural  objects." 

"The  weather  is  changeable;  is  your  carriage 
closed?"  interrupted  the  Prince. 

"  It  is  a  britscka,  with  a  leather  top  to  it,"  replied 
Mrs.  Rollmaus.  "  I  must  honestly  avow  to  you  that 
it  has  been  quite  an  unexpected  pleasure  to  me  that 
this  visit  has  afforded  the  opportunity  of  seeing  your 
Highness,  for  I  have  heard  very  much  of  you." 

"  I  should  be  very  grateful  to  you,"  replied  the 
Prince,  "  if  you  would  kindly  tell  me  what  you  have 
heard.  I  have  hitherto  believed  that  my  reputation 
was  not  by  any  means  so  bad  as  it  might  be." 

"  No  one,  however  noble  he  may  be,  can  escape 
calumny,"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Rollmaus,  eagerly;  "they 


OLD    ACQUAINTANCES.  341 

talk  of  tricks.  I  fear  your  Highness  will  take  it  amiss 
if  I  mention  this  gossip." 

"  Tell  me  something  of  it,"  replied  the  Prince, 
"whatever  it  may  be." 

"They  maintain  that  your  Highness  is  convivial 
and  lives  quite  boisterously,  and  other  things  which  it 
would  be  unpleasant  for  me  to  repeat." 

"  Go  on,"  said  the  Prince,  cheerfully. 

"That  your  Highness  makes  fools  of  other  people." 

"  That  is  grievous,"  replied  the  Prince.  "  Is  your 
coachman  a  courageous  man?" 

"  He  is  somewhat  surly  even  with  Rollmaus,  who 
indulges  him  much." 

"  Believe  me  Mrs.  Rollmaus,"  continued  the  Prince, 
"  it  is  a  sorrowful  business,  to  be  a  prince.  Disquiet 
from  morning  to  evening.  Every  one  will  have  some- 
thing, and  no  one  brings  anything  except  bills.  Thus  all 
gaiety  is  sacrificed,  one  becomes  sad,  and  slinks  about 
through  the  bushes.  My  favorite  recreation  is  a  little 
quiet  conversation  in  the  evening  with  my  old  nurse 
and  instructress,  the  widowed  Cliquot,  and  to  play  a 
little  'patience.'  Then  one  counts  the  good  works  that 
one  has  done  during  the  day,  sighs  that  they  are  so 
few,  and  looks  for  one's  boot-jack.  We  are  the  vic- 
tims of  our  position.  If  there  is  anything  I  envy  the 
Professor's  wife,  it  is  her  servant  Gabriel,  a  trust- 
worthy man,  whom  I  recommend  to  your  favorable 
attention." 

"I  know  him,"  replied  Mrs.  Rollmaus;  "I  must 
acknowledge  that  the  autobiography  which  you  have 
given  me  agrees  with  all  that  I  have  discovered  from 
the  structure  of  your  Highness's  head,  so  far  as  your 
hat  does  not  deprive  one  of  the  sight  of  it,  which 
indeed  is  very  much  the  case." 


342  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

"  I  would  be  thankful  to  my  cranium,"  muttered  the 
Prince,  "  if  it  would  lead  everyone  to  believe  my  words 
as  easily  as  you  do." 

"  As  long  as  I  live,  it  will  be  a  pleasure  as  well  as  a 
souvenir  to  me,"  continued  Mrs.  Rollmaus,  with  an 
ambulatory  curtsy,  "  to  have  been  brought  by  accident 
to  this  intimate  intercourse  with  your  Highness,  the  re- 
membrance of  which  I  will,  if  I  may  be  allowed  to  say 
so,  recall  to  myself  by  your  Highness's  picture,  which 
I  hope  may  be  had  in  the  shops.  I  shall  place  myself 
before  it  when  I  am  in  the  singular  number,  as  now 
my  son  Karl  does  with  his  grammar,  and  think  of  past 
hours." 

Prince  Victor  gave  Mrs.  Rollmaus  a  look  of  friendly 
benevolence. 

"  I  will  never  allow  you  to  buy  my  portrait.  I  beg 
permission  to  send  you  a  copy  as  a  remembrance.  It 
is,  unfortunately,  not  so  true  as  I  could  wish.  The 
painter  has  made  me  too  large,  and  I  am  not  quite 
content  with  the  costume  :  it  looks  like  a  clergyman's 
gown.  Meanwhile  I  beg  you  kindly  to  imagine  it 
without  this  superfluity.  Has  the  Chief  Inspector 
Rollmaus  good  horses?  Does  he  raise  them  himself? 

"  Always,  your  Highness,  he  is  famed  for  it  among 
the  neighbors." 

The  Prince  turned  with  fresh  interest  towards  the 
little  lady. 

"  Perhaps  one  could  transact  some  business  with 
him.  I  am  looking  out  for  some  strong  saddle-horses. 
What  kind  of  a  man  is  he  to  deal  with?"  he  asked, 
frankly. 

"He  is  a  very  sharp  tradesman,"  replied  Mrs. 
Rollmaus,  hesitatingly,  and  looking  at  the  Prince  with 
secret  pity.  "  He  is  considered  by  his  acquaintances 


OLD    ACQUAINTANCES.  343 

as  an  expert  in  horses,  and — and,  if  I  may  say  so — is 
rather  knowing." 

The  Prince  pursed  up  his  lips,  bringing  out  a  sound 
almost  like  a  suppressed  whistle. 

"  Then  he  is  very  unlike  the  highly  honored  lady, 
and  I  shall  hardly  be  able  to  do  business  with  him. 
Would  it  not  give  the  Professor's  wife  pleasure  to 
visit  you  for  a  few  days  in  the  village  of  toads?" 

"It  would  be  the  greatest  pleasure  to  us,"  ex- 
claimed Mrs.  Rollmaus,  "but  the  house  is  empty,  and 
is  not  furnished,  and  we  must  manage  as  best  we  can, 
and  the  victuals,  too,  as  a  rule,  are  cold." 

"Only  in  case  of  extreme  necessity,  I  mean." 

Meanwhile  Use  was  walking  by  the  side  of  the 
Princess  through  the  groups  of  citizens  making  their 
obeisances,  but  her  heart  was  not  so  light  as  that  of 
Mrs.  Rollmaus.  The  Princess  spoke  kindly  to  her,  but 
upon  indifferent  suojects,  and  she  turned  frequently  to 
the  other  side  to  her  lady.  It  was  clearly  not  her  wish 
to  enter  into  more  conversation  with  Use  than  was  ab- 
solutely necessary.  Use  saw  clearly  that  it  was  a  show 
of  favor  before  the  world;  she  felt  the  intention  of  it, 
and  asked  herself  secretly  why  it  was  necessary,  and 
her  pride  revolted  at  this  graciousness,  which  did  not 
come  from  the  heart.  The  Princess  kept  Use  for  some 
time  in  the  most  crowded  part  of  the  promenade. 

"  I  leave  the  palace  to-day,"  said  the  Princess, 
"  and  go  for  a  few  days  or  weeks  into  the  country. 
Perhaps  I  shall  have  the  pleasure  of  seeing  you 
there." 

At  parting  Prince  Victor  took  off  his  hat  politely, 
but  only  said  :  "  The  air  is  becoming  sultry." 

Use  brooded  over  this  little  incident  as  she  returned 
with  her  companion  to  the  Pavilion.  She  answered 


344  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

the  animated  questions  of  Mrs.  Rollmaus  absent-mind- 
edly, and  only  gave  a  half-look  at  the  promenaders, 
many  of  whom  now  took  off  their  hats  to  her. 

Gabriel  had  prepared  some  coffee  in  honor  of 
Mrs.  Rollmaus,  and  had  set  the  table  in  front  of  the 
door.  There  the  ladies  sat  down.  Mrs.  Rollmaus 
looked  enchanted  at  the  blooming  azaleas,  praised  the 
cake  of  the  palace,  and  still  more  the  princely  person- 
ages, and  chatted  away  in  her  best  humor,  whilst 
Use  looked  seriously  down. 

"I  have  seen  some  of  the  princely  personages,  and 
I  should  now  like  to  see  the  fortune-teller.  It  is  re- 
markable, dear  Use,  that  my  valuable  connection  with 
the  Professor  always  brings  in  question  the  power  of 
soothsaying.  It  is  really  not  from  inconsiderate  cu- 
riosity that  I  wish  to  question  this  person.  It  is  no 
object  to  me  to  learn  about  my  future.  I  know  suffi- 
ciently how  this  will  all  be.  For  to  a  certain  extent  we 
live  under  natural  conditions  ;  first  the  children  come, 
then  they  grow  up,  one  becomes  older,  and  if  one  does 
not  die  too  young,  one  lives  a  little  longer.  That  has 
never  been  inscrutable  to  me,  and  I  do  not  know  what  a 
person  could  now  discover  for  me.  It  would,  therefore, 
be  some  misfortune  that  would  come  to  pass,  and  I  do 
not  wish  to  have  that  prophesied.  I  wish  it  only  for 
the  sake  of  instruction,  to  find  out  whether  such  a  per- 
son knows  more  than  we  others.  For  in  our  days 
there  are  doubts  about  the  powers  of  soothsaying,  and 
I  myself  have  never  had  a  presentiment,  except  once, 
when  I  had  the  toothache,  and  dreamt  that  I  smoked 
a  pipe,  which  took  place  and  had  a  nauseous  effect  ; 
but  this  cannot  be  called  wonderful." 

"  Perhaps  the  fortune-teller  knows  more  than  oth- 


OLD   ACQUAINTANCES.  345 

ers,"  replied  Use,  absently,  "because  she  has  somehow 
made  herself  acquainted  with  their  history." 

"  I  have  thought  of  something,"  cried  Mrs:  Roll- 
maus ;  "I  would  ask  her  about  the  silver  soup-ladle, 
which,  in  an  inexplicable  way,  disappeared  from  our 
kitchen." 

"What  will  the  lady  give  me  if  I  tell  her?  "  asked 
a  hollow  voice. 

Mrs.  Rollmaus  started.  At  the  corner  of  the  house 
stood  a  large  woman  behind  the  flower-pots;  from  her 
shoulders  hung  a  ragged  cloak,  her  head  was  covered 
with  a  dark  handkerchief,  from  under  which  two  flash- 
ing eyes  were  fixed  upon  the  ladies.  Mrs.  Rollmaus 
seized  Use's  arm,  and  cried  out,  terrified:  "There  is 
the  fortune-teller  herself,  dear  Use.  I  beg  your  ad- 
vice; shall  I  ask  her?  " 

The  woman  stepped  cautiously  from  behind  the 
plants,  placed  herself  in  front  of  Use,  and  raised  her 
handkerchief.  Use  rose  and  looked  annoyed  on  the 
sharp  features  of  the  withered  face. 

"  The  gipsy  !  "  she  exclaimed,  stepping  back. 

"  A  tinkering  woman  !  "  exclaimed  Mrs.  Rollmaus, 
displeased;  "the  secret  knowledge  of  such  as  she  is, 
is  connected  with  poultry-stealing,  and  worse  things. 
First  they  steal  and  conceal,  and  then  tell  where  the 
stolen  property  is." 

The  stranger  paid  no  attention  to  the  attack  of  Mrs. 
Rollmaus. 

"You  have  hunted  my  people  like  the  foxes  in  the 
wood;  the  frost  has  killed  them;  your  watchmen  have 
imprisoned  them,  and  those  that  still  live  lie  within 
walls,  clinking  their  chains;  I  rove  alone  through  the 
country.  Do  not  think  of  what  was  done  by  the  men 
that  night,  think  only  of  what  I  predicted.  Has  it 


346  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

not  come  to  pass  ?  You  look  on  the  stone  house  op- 
posite, and  you  see  how  slowly  he  comes  along  the 
gravel-path,  to  the  room  in  which  the  naked  boy 
hangs  on  the  ceiling." 

Use's  countenance  changed. 

"  I  do  not  understand  what  you  mean.  Only  one 
thing  I  see,  that  you  are  no  stranger  here." 

"  Many  years  have  my  feet  glided  through  the 
snow,"  continued  the  gipsy,  "  since  I  passed  through 
the  doors  of  these  black  creatures." 

She  pointed  to  the  angels  holding  tulip  wreaths. 

"  Now  disease  has  come  upon  me." 

She  stretched  out  her  hand: 

"  Give  to  the  sick  woman  of  the  high  road,  who 
once  went  on  the  same  path  that  you  are  now  tread- 
ing." 

The  color  rose  in  Use's  cheeks,  she  gazed  fixedly 
on  the  beggar  woman,  and  shook  her  head. 

"  It  is  not  money  that  I  want  from  you,"  continued 
the  gipsy.  "  Entreat  the  spirit  of  this  house  for  me, 
if  he  should  appear  to  you.  I  am  weary,  and  seek 
rest  for  my  head.  Tell  him  that  the  strange  woman 
on  whom  he  hung  this  token,"  she  pointed  to  her  neck, 
"begs  for  his  help." 

Use  stood  motionless;  her  cheeks  glowed  and  her 
eyes  flashed  angrily  on  the  woman. 

"  What  will  you  give  to  find  your  silver  again?" 
asked  the  beggar,  in  an  altered  tone,  turning  to  Mrs. 
Rollmaus. 

"So  you  are  the  fortune-teller  ?  "  said  Mrs.  Roll- 
maus, angrily,  "  and  not  a  penny  will  I  give  you. 
Any  one  who  examined  your  head  would  find  a  fine 
organism  there.  I  have  often  heard  such  gibberish. 
Away  with  you  before  the  police  come.  One  of  your 


OLD    ACQUAINTANCES.  347 

people  prophesied  to  my  head-maid  that  she  would 
marry  a  landed  proprietor,  and  I  was  obliged  to  dis- 
miss her,  though  she  had  been  very  useful.  She 
began  to  attack  even  Rollmaus  himself,  although  he 
only  laughed  at  her.  Go,  we  will  have  nothing  to  do 
with  you." 

"  Think  of  my  request,"  cried  the  stranger  to  Use. 
"  I  shall  return." 

The  gipsy  turned  away  and  disappeared  behind  the 
house. 

"They  are  scamps,"  said  Mrs.  Rollmaus,  deeply 
irritated,  '•'  Believe  nothing  of  what  they  say  to  you. 
This  one  talks  worse  nonsense  than  the  others.  I 
really  believe,  dear  Use,  you  take  to  heart  what  this 
beggar  woman  has  said." 

"  She  knows  this  house,  she  knew  well  what  she 
says,"  said  Use,  faintly. 

"Naturally,"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Rollmaus;  "  they  rove 
about  and  peep  through  all  the  crevices,  they  have  a 
good  memory  for  other  people's  business,  but  do  not 
remember  their  own  thievish  tricks.  I  have  a  great 
suspicion  of  her  as  regards  my  soup-ladle.  If  this  is 
the  famous  fortune-teller  I  am  so  disgusted  as  not  to 
care  to  make  any  further  inquiries.  Ah  !  and  you  also, 
I  see." 

"  I  know  the  woman,"  replied  Use;  "  she  belongs 
to  the  band  who  stole  our  children,  and  wounded  the 
arm  of  my  Felix.  Now  her  uncanny  figure  comes  be- 
fore me  like  a  spirit,  and  her  dark  words  excite  horror 
in  me.  She  threatens  to  return,  and  terror  seizes  me 
lest  this  woman  should  once  more  come  upon  me  una- 
wares. I  must  away  from  here." 

Use  hastened  into  the  house,  Mrs.  Rollmaus  fol- 
lowed her,  and  said,  kindly: 


348  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

"  If  she  comes  again,  she  shall  be  sent  away.  The 
best  way  of  dealing  with  these  prognosticators  is  to 
imprison  them  with  bread  and  water." 

Use  stood  in  the  sitting-room  looking  timidly 
about  her. 

"  He  who  hung  the  cross  upon  her  was  the  master 
of  this  castle;  and  when  she  spoke  those  wild  words 
to  me  at  the  gate  of  the  farm  yard,  she  did  not  mean 
my  Felix." 

"  She  meant  eight  shillings,  and  nothing  more," 
said  Mrs.  Rollmaus,  consolingly. 

"  How  dare  she  compare  my  life  with  hers  ?  How 
does  she  know  whether  the  lord  of  this  house  attends 
to  my  words  ?" 

Mrs.  Rollmaus  endeavored  in  vain  to  tranquilize 
her,  by  sensible  observations  upon  the  worthlessness 
of  these  female  vagabonds.  Use  looked  down,  with 
her  hands  folded,  and  the  consolatory  speeches  of  her 
worthy  friend  were  spoken  in  vain. 

Strange  voices  were  heard  in  the  house;  Gabriel 
opened  the  door,  and  announced  the  Intendant.  The 
old  man  entered  the  room  officiously  and  begged  to  be 
excused  for  the  interruption. 

"  My  most  gracious  master  has  commanded  me  to 
inquire  whether  a  strolling  woman  has  been  begging 
here.  She  has  slipped  into  the  castle,  obtained  access 
to  the  Princess,  and  frightened  her,  just  when  her 
Highness  was  departing  for  the  country.  His  High- 
ness wishes  to  warn  you  against  the  stranger — she  is 
a  dangerous  person." 

"She  was  here,"  replied  Use,  "and  talked  wildly; 
she  showed  that  she  knew  the  house." 

The  Intendant  looked  disturbed,  as  he  continued: 

"  A  long   time  ago,  her    Highness,  the   deceased 


OLD    ACQUAINTANCES.  349 

Princess,  took  compassion  on  a  gipsy  girl  whose 
mother  had  died  on  the  high  road.  She  had  the  crea- 
ture instructed,  and,  as  she  was  amusingj  and  seemed 
to  promise  well,  she  was  at  last  taken  into  the  castle 
and  employed  in  small  services;  but  she  has  badly  re- 
paid this  generous  treatment.  At  a  time  of  heavy  afflic- 
tion in  the  castle,  this  person  fell  back  into  the  habits  of 
her  childhood;  she  took  to  stealing,  and  disappeared. 
To-day,  one  of  the  servants  recognized  the  maiden  in 
this  strange  woman.  His  Highness,  the  gracious 
Prince,  who  is  ailing,  was  informed  of  this  by  his  valet 
and  was  much  excited  by  it.  Search  is  being  made 
through  all  the  streets  and  roads  for  the  stranger." 

The  old  man  took  leave.  Use  looked  gloomily  after 
him;  but  she  said  with  more  composure  to  Mrs.  Roll- 
maus: 

"This  accounts  for  the  language  of  the  stroller, 
which  sounded  different  to  that  of  begging  people  in 
general,  and  it  accounts  for  her  wish  to  receive  the 
pardon  of  the  Prince." 

But  now  Mrs.  Rollmaus  in  her  turn  became  de- 
pressed and  sad. 

"Ah,  dear  Use  !  if  the  witch  has  really  lived  here 
among  these  distinguished  people,  she  may  know  many 
things  that  have  happened  in  this  house;  for  people 
do  not  speak  well  of  it,  and  they  say  that  in  former 
times  princely  mistresses  lived  here.  The  house  is  not 
to  blame,  nor  are  we;  it  is  only  because  the  Heredit- 
ary Prince  has  gone  to  your  father,  and  you  knew  him 
at  the  University,  that  people  shake  their  heads  at 
it;  it  is  idle  gossip." 

"What  gossip?"  exclaimed  Use,  in  a  hoarse  voice, 
seizing  the  hand  of  Mrs.  Rollmaus. 

"  They  say  that  you  are  the  cause  of  the  Hereditary 


350  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

Prince  coming  into  our  country.  We  should  all  re- 
joice if  you  were  to  visit  your  father  before  you  jour- 
ney, as  was  intended ;  but  I  really  believe,  as  long 
as  the  Prince  is  there,  it  would  be  better  for  you  to 
remain  here,  or  anywhere  else.  It  is  only  for  the  sake 
of  prudence,"  she  continued,  soothingly,  "and  you 
must  not  take  it  to  heart." 

Use  stood  silent  and  motionless;  Mrs.  Rollmaus 
continuing  her  comforting  words,  but  Use  scarcely 
seemed  conscious  of  them. 

It  is  not  safe,  Use,  to  teach  young  princes  to  use 
agricultural  machines,  and  to  fight  duels ;  the  tuition 
fee  will  be  paid  you  doubly,  and  in  new  coin,  as  is  the 
custom  of  the  courts. 

There  was  a  long  and  uneasy  silence  in  the  room. 
Use  looked  wildly  about ;  then  she  took  a  cane  chair, 
and  placed  herself  opposite  to  Mrs.  Rollmaus,  and  her 
fingers  flew  over  her  work.  "  Do  not  let  us  talk  any 
more  of  such  calumnies,"  she  said.  "What  is  your 
son  Karl  doing?  are  you  satisfied  with  his  progress? 
and  how  does  he  get  on  with  the  pianoforte?  It  would 
be  a  good  thing  for  him  to  understand  something  about 
music." 

Mrs.  Rollmaus  recovered  her  spirits  talking  over 
the  dances  that  her  son  Karl  played  ;  she  chattered  on, 
and  Use  listened  silently,  counting  over  the  stitches 
in  her  colored  wool-work. 

The  Professor  returned,  and  shortly  after  the  car- 
riage drove  up.  Mrs.  Rollmaus  disappeared  into  the 
next  room  to  pack  up  her  cap  in  the  band-box,  and 
then  took  an  eloquent  leave  of  her  dear  friend,  the 
Professor.  Her  last  words  to  Use  were : 

"  It  may  be  long  before  we  meet  again  ;  preserve 
your  friendship  for  me  even  though  I  am  far  from  you." 


OLD    ACQUAINTANCES.  351 

"  What  is  the  meaning  of  these  solemn  words  of 
parting  our  neighbor  has  spoken  ?"  asked  the  Pro- 
fessor, astonished. 

"  They  mean  that  we  are  in  a  house,  to  be  within 
the  walls  of  which  fills  an  honest  woman  with  horror 
and  dread,"  answered  Use,  with  flashing  eyes;  "and 
they  mean  that  I  wish  to  go  away  from  here,  and  that 
it  is  time  for  you  to  take  away  your  wife  from  unwhole- 
some surroundings." 

She  told  him  breathlessly  what  Mrs.  Rollmaus  had 
related,  and  what  the  beggar-woman  had  suggested. 

"  I  am  ensnared,  Felix,"  she  exclaimed,  "  by  my 
own  fault,  I  am  sorry  to  say.  God  knows  that  in  my 
conduct  towards  the  young  Prince  I  had  no  thought 
of  bringing  your  wife  into  disrepute,  but  I  have  been 
imprudent,  and  I  am  suffering  for  it  horribly,  horribly  ! 
Now  I  understand  the  forebodings  which  have  tor- 
mented me  for  weeks  past.  If  you  love  me  take  me 
away  quickly  from  here,  the  ground  burns  beneath  my 
feet." 

A  sharp  pang  seized  the  Professor  as  he  saw  his 
wife  struggling  with  agony,  bitter  enough  to  stun  the 
strongest  soul  of  woman,  and  to  crush  the  noblest 
powers  for  years. 

"It  is  as  repugnant  and  humiliating  to  me  as  to 
you  to  look  openly  upon  wickedness.  I  am  ready  to 
do  all  that  1  can  to  deliver  you  from  this  trouble.  Let 
us  calmly  consider  how  this  can  be  done.  You  can- 
not, in  such  a  state  of  passionate  feeling,  decide  what 
would  be  good  for  you,  for  your  judgment  is  not  un- 
biased enough  to  choose  your  own  course.  To  what 
old  house  that  a  tenant  rents  or  a  landlord  opens,  do 
not  painful  recollections  attach  ?  Even  he  who  lives 
a  simple  life  in  a  strange  neighborhood,  cannot  escape 


352  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

the  attacks  of  idle  gossip.  Turn  away  your  thoughts 
from  that  common  woman.  It  would  not  become 
either  you  or  me  to  depart  like  fugitives  on  her  ac- 
count. What  have  we  done,  Use,  to  lose  our  self-re- 
spect ?  There  is  only  one  wise  method  of  dealing 
with  the  evil  work  of  foolish  and  perverse  accidents, 
to  go  forward  firmly  and  to  care  little  for  it.  Then 
the  dissonance  will  pass  away  and  perish  of  itself  in 
the  noise  of  daily  life.  Those  who  allow  themselves 
to  be  disturbed  by  it,  increase  it  by  their  own  sorrow. 
Suppose  that  we  were  suddenly  to  leave  this  house, 
you  would  carry  away  with  you  the  feeling  of  having 
left  like  one  who  had  been  conquered,  and  you  would 
be  incessantly  pursued  by  the  consciousness  of  a  dis- 
cordant murmur  behind  us  which  would  not  be  si- 
lenced." 

"  You  speak  coldly  and  wisely,"  exclaimed  Use, 
deeply  incensed  ;  "  in  spite  of  what  you  say,  though, 
you  little  feel  the  injury  your  wife  suffers." 

"  If  you  now  had  the  self-possession  for  which  I 
always  admired  you,  you  would  not  allow  such  unjust 
complaints  to  pass  your  lips,"  replied  her  husband, 
gloomily.  "You  must  know  that  if  I  saw  you  in  dan- 
ger, I  would  this  very  hour  take  you  away.  Must  I 
now  waste  words  with  you  to  tell  you  that.  But  even 
against  the  gossip  of  the  weak,  this  residence  is  the 
best  defense,  for  the  Prince  is  away  and  you  remain 
behind  with  your  husband." 

"  I  know  the  cause  of  this  indifference,"  murmured 
Use. 

"  You  know  what  binds  me  here,"  exclaimed  the 
Professor,  "  and  if  you  were  to  me  what  you  ought  to 
be,  the  sharer  of  my  hopes,  and  if  you  had  the  same 
feeling  for  the  value  of  the  treasure  which  I  seek,  you 


OLD    ACQUAINTANCES.  353 

would,  like  me,  feel  that  I  should  not  needlessly  turn 
away.  Bear  with  this  residence,  dear  Use,  however 
irksome  it  may  appear  to  you,"  he  continued  encour- 
agingly, "  the  longest  period  is  past.  I  am  invited  to 
pursue  my  quest  in  the  country-chateau  of  the  Prin- 
cess ;  there  I  anticipate  that  I  shall  find  what  will  set 
us  free." 

"Do  not  go,"  exclaimed  Use,  approaching  him; 
"  do  not  leave  me  in  this  dreadful  insecurity,  in  a  ter- 
ror that  makes  me  shudder  at  myself  and  every  strange 
sound  that  I  hear  in  these  rooms." 

"Terror,"  exclaimed  the  Professor,  displeased, 
"  terror  of  spirits.  Rarely  is  life  among  strangers  so 
easy  and  comfortable  as  this  residence  is  to  us  ;  there 
may  be  discord  everywhere,  and  it  is  our  own  fault  if 
we  allow  it  to  master  us." 

"  Do  not  go,"  cried  Use  again.  "Yes,  there  are 
spirits  that  pursue  me,  they  hang  day  and  night  above 
my  head.  Do  not  go,  Felix,"  she  exclaimed,  raising 
her  hand  ;  "  it  is  not  the  manuscript  alone  that  allures 
you,  but  the  woman  who  awaits  you  there.  This  I  have 
known  ever  since  the  first  day  we  came  to  this  town. 
I  see  how  the  magic  of  her  superficial  soul  ensnares 
you.  I  have  until  to-day  struggled  against  this  fear, 
from  the  confidence  I  had  in  my  loved  husband.  If 
you  go  now,  Felix,  when  I  would  like  to  cling  to  you, 
when  I  seek  every  moment  for  comfort  from  your 
voice,  I  shall  begin  to  doubt  you  and  to  have  the  fear- 
ful thought  that  my  trouble  is  indifferent  to  you,  be- 
cause you  have  become  cold  to  me." 

"What  are  you  thinking  of,  Use  ?"  cried  the  scholar, 
horrified  ;  "is  it  my  wife  that  speaks  thus  ?  when  have 
I  ever  concealed  my  feelings  from  you  ?  and  can  you 
not  read  in  my  soul  as  in  an  open  book  ?  Then,  was 


354  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

it  this  that  lay  so  heavy  on  your  mind?  Just  what  I 
should  not  have  considered  possible,"  he  said,  frankly 
and  sorrowfully. 

"  No,  no,"  cried  Use,  beside  herself;  "I  am  unjust, 
I  know  it ;  do  not  attend  to  my  words.  I  trust  you ;  I 
cling  to  you.  Oh  !  Felix,  I  should  be  driven  to  de- 
spair if  this  support  breaks  Bunder  me." 

She  threw  her  arms  around  his  neck,  and  sobbed. 
Her  husband  embraced  her,  and  tears  came  into  his 
eyes  at  the  grief  of  his  wife. 

"  Remain  with  me,  my  Felix,"  continued  Use, 
weeping.  "  Do  not  leave  me  alone  just  now.  I  have 
still  a  childish,  simple  heart.  Have  patience  with  me. 
I  have  been  ill  at  ease  here  ;  I  do  not  know  why.  I 
cling  to  you,  and  I  tremble  lest  you  should  be  alienated 
from  me.  I  know  that  you  are  mine,  and  I  struggle 
with  the  fearful  foreboding  that  I  shall  lose  you  here. 
When  you  go  out  of  the  house,  it  seems  to  me  as  if  I 
must  take  an  eternal  farewell,  and  when  you  return,  I 
look  doubtfully  at  you,  as  if  you  had  changed  towards 
me  in  a  few  hours.  I  am  unhappy,  Felix,  and  unhap- 
piness  makes  one  distrustful.  I  have  become  weak 
and  faint-hearted,  and  I  am  afraid  of  telling  you,  be- 
cause I  fear  that  you  will  on  that  account  have  less 
respect  for  me.  Remain  here,  my  beloved  ;  do  not  go 
to  the  Princess — at  least,  not  to-morrow." 

"  If  not  to-morrow,"  he  said,  cheerfully,  "  then  the 
next  day,  or  some  other  day.  I  cannot  forego  this 
short  journey.  To  give  it  up  would  be  a  wrong  that 
we  must  not  take  upon  ourselves.  The  longer  I  delay, 
Use,  the  longer  you  will  be  kept  within  these  walls. 
Even  from  your  point  of  view,  is  it  not  prudent  to  do 
quickly  what  would  make  us  free?" 

Use  released  herself  from  his  embrace. 


IN  THE  PRINCESS'S  TOWER.  355 

"  You  speak  sensibly  at  a  moment  when  I  had 
hoped  for  a  far  different  tone  from  your  heart,"  she 
said  quietly.  "  I  know,  Felix,  that  you  do  not  wish  to 
give  me  pain,  and  I  hope  that  you  are  true  in  what 
you  now  say,  and  conceal  nothing  from  me.  But  I 
feel  in  the  depths  of  my  heart  a  long-accustomed  pang 
that  has  often  come  over  me  in  sorrowful  days  since  I 
have  known  you.  You  think  differently  from  what  I 
do,  and  you  feel  differently  in  many  things.  The  in- 
dividual and  his  sufferings  signify  little  to  you  in  com- 
parison to  the  great  thoughts  that  you  carry  about 
with  you.  You  stand  on  a  height,  in  a  clear  atmo- 
sphere, and  have  no  sympathy  with  the  anguish  and 
trouble  in  the  valley  at  your  feet.  Clear  is  the  air,  but 
cold,  and  a  chill  seizes  me,  when  I  see  it." 

"  It  is  the  nature  of  a  man,"  said  the  Professor, 
more  deeply  moved  by  the  restrained  grief  of  his  wife 
than  by  her  loud  complaints. 

"  No,"  answered  Use,  gazing  fixedly  before  her, 
"it  is  only  the  nature  of  a  scholar." 

In  the  night,  when  the  scholar  had  been  long 
sleeping,  his  wife  rose  by  his  side  and  gazed,  in  the 
subdued  light,  on  the  countenance  of  her  loved  hus- 
band. She  got  up,  and  held  the  night-lamp  so  that 
the  yellow  light  fell  on  his  peaceful  countenance,  and 
large  tears  dropped  from  her  eyes  on  his  head.  Then 
she  placed  herself  before  him,  wringing  her  hands,  and 
striving  to  restrain  the  weeping  and  convulsions  which 
shook  her  body. 

CHAPTER  XXXV. 
IN  THE  PRINCESS'S  TOWER. 

WHEN  the  Princess,  at  the  urgent  desire  of  her 
father,  had  returned  to  her  home,  the  illustrious  fam- 


356  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

ily  whose  name  she  now  bore  made  it  a  condition,  not 
only  that  she  should  pass  some  months  of  the  year  at 
the  residence  of  her  deceased  husband,  but  that  she 
should  have  a  special  establishment  arranged  for  her 
in  her  father's  capital.  A  compact  to  this  effect  was 
concluded,  the  object  of  which  was  undoubtedly  to 
secure  to  the  young  Princess  a  certain  degree  of  in- 
dependence. In  order  to  fulfil  the  agreement  in  ap- 
pearance, a  princely  castle  in  the  country  was  assigned 
to  the  Princess  for  a  dwelling,  as  there  was  no  suitable 
building  in  the  capital.  The  castle  was  half  a  day's 
journey  from  the  city,  at  the  foot  of  a  woody  hill,  sur- 
rounded by  fields  and  villages — a  pleasant  summer 
residence.  The  Princess  had  already  spent  some  of 
the  months  of  her  mourning  there. 

It  was  a  warm  day  on  which  the  Professor  set  off 
to  go  to  the  castle.  The  air  had  not  yet  become  cool 
after  the  storm  of  the  night.  There  were  fleeting 
shadows  and  bright  sunshine  on  the  sky  and  earth  ; 
the  thick  clouds  sometimes  cast  a  grey  covering  over 
the  straight  road  along  which  the  learned  man  passed  ; 
but  then  again  it  lay  before  him  like  a  golden  path, 
leading  to  the  longed-for  goal. 

Thus  did  dazzling  light  and  dark  shadows  flit 
through  the  soul  of  our  scholar.  "  The  manuscript 
will  be  found  ;  it  is  concealed  from  us,"  he  said  to 
himself,  and  his  brow  became  clouded.  "  If  it  should 
not  be  found,  many  will  read  with  astonishment  how 
deceptive  appearances  were,  how  near  the  possibility. 
Many  will  with  regret  resign  the  hope  which  the  words 
of  the  monk  had  inspired,  yet  none  will  feel  this  regret 
so  much  as  I  shall.  A  thought  which  has  for  years 
occupied  my  fancy,  and  directed  my  eyes  to  one  ob- 
ject, has  gained  the  mastery  over  me.  The  free  mind 


IN  THE  PRINCESS'S  TOWER.  357 

of  man  plays  with  the  thousand  impressions  of  ancient 
and  modern  times  :  he  restrains  their  power  by  the 
balance  of  his  reason  and  strength  of  his  will.  But 
with  me  a  small  image  of  the  faded  characters  of  an 
old  book  has  penetrated  so  deeply  into  my  soul  that 
the  hope  of  obtaining  it  makes  the  blood  course  through 
my  veins,  and  the  fear  of  losing  it  paralyzes  my  ener- 
gies. I  know  that  my  eagerness  is  too  great ;  it  has 
hardened  me  against  the  childish  anguish  of  my  wife, 
and  I  myself  have  not  become  stronger  since  I  have 
trodden  the  uncertain  path  of  the  poacher.  Every 
one  should  be  on  his  guard  lest  his  dreams  should  di- 
minish the  sovereignty  of  his  mind.  Even  the  dreams 
of  the  best  hours,  when  a  soul  innocently  devotes  it- 
self to  a  great  feeling,  may  turn  a  man  away  from  the 
straight  path  of  duty,  that  lies  nearest  to  him." 

A  golden  light  broke  over  his  countenance.  "  But 
if  it  is  found  !  It  is  only  a  small  portion  of  our  knowl- 
edge of  ancient  times  that  lies  concealed  in  it.  And 
yet  it  is  just  this  discovery  that  would  pour  a  flood  of 
light  upon  a  landscape  hovering  in  twilight,  and  sev- 
eral decades  of  ancient  life  would  become  visible  to 
our  eyes  with  as  distinct  an  outline  as  if  they  lay  in  a 
nearer  past.  The  discovery  would  solve  a  hundred 
doubts,  and  excite  a  thousand  new  ones.  Every  later 
generation  would  rejoice  in  the  great  gain,  and  would 
seek,  with  revived  energy,  for  new  disclosures.  Even 
for  her,  who  at  the  castle  shares  so  warm-heartedly  in 
my  anxieties,  I  wish  the  pleasure  of  this  discovery. 
To  her  also  it  would  be  forever  a  great  remembrance, 
that  she  had  taken  a  kindly  interest  in  the  first  labors 
of  the  searcher." 

Higher  rose  the  mountains  and  more  brilliant  be- 
came the  coloring  of  their  masses.  The  line  of  hills  in 


THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 


the  foreground  stood  forth  from  the  misty  distance  ; 
blue  glimpses  of  the  valley  were  visible  through  the 
openings  of  the  dark  wood.  The  carriage  rolled 
through  a  well-preserved  forest  ;  a  thick  growth  of 
firs  and  pines  shut  out  the  prospect  for  a  time  ;  when 
the  road  led  again  into  the  open  country,  through 
grassy  meadows  and  groups  of  trees,  the  castle  lay 
straight  before  the  eyes  of  the  scholar.  A  massive, 
old-fashioned  tower  crowned  with  pinnacles  rose  out 
of  a  low  wood  ;  the  afternoon  sun  shone  above,  its 
rays  forming  long  streaks  in  the  vaporous  atmosphere. 
The  brown  walls  stood  out  in  the  lonely  landscape, 
like  the  last  pillar  of  a  gigantic  ruined  castle  ;  only  by 
the  fresh-looking  stone  mullions  of  the  well-fitted 
windows  did  one  perceive  that  it  was  a  habitable 
abode.  Adjoining  the  tower  rose  the  small  chateau, 
with  steeply-sloped  roof  and  pointed  windows  ;  in  its 
moderate  dimensions  it  formed  a  strange  contrast  to 
its  massive  companion  ;  but  in  spite  of  the  dispropor- 
tion of  the  parts  the  whole  formed  a  stately  relic  of 
the  middle  ages.  One  could  well  see  that  its  walls 
had  afforded  shelter  and  defense  to  many  genera- 
tions. 

The  tendrils  of  the  wild  vine  twined  up  to  the  roof 
of  the  house  and  round  the  windows  of  the  tower, 
which  rose  in  seven  stories,  supported  by  strong  but- 
tresses. Thyme  and  grass  grew  above  in  the  crevices 
of  the  crumbling  stone,  but  the  grass  which  a  few 
days  ago  had  covered  the  ground  had  been  pulled  up 
and  the  court  and  doors  festively  adorned  for  the  new 
occupants.  Banks  of  flowers  and  plants  in  pots  were 
placed  around  in  profusion.  There  was  only  one  cor- 
ner in  which  the  hasty  work  had  not  been  finished, 
and  the  remains  of  mossy  green  on  the  ground,  and  a 


IN  THE  PRINCESS'S  TOWER.  359 

swarm  of  blackbirds  that  fluttered  round  the  tower, 
showed  that  the  building  had  stood  uninhabited  in  a 
lonely  country. 

The  Professor  sprang  from  the  carriage,  the  Mar- 
shal greeted  him  from  the  balustrade,  andjed  him  into 
the  unpretentious  guest-chamber.  Shortly  after  he 
conducted  him  through  a  vaulted  passage  of  the  cas- 
tle to  the  tower.  The  Princess,  who  had  just  returned 
from  a  walk,  was  standing,  with  her  summer  hat  in  her 
hand,  at  the  entrance  of  the  tower. 

"Welcome  to  my  Solitude,"  she  said  ;  "happy  be 
the  hour  in  which  this  old  mansion  opens  its  doors  to 
you.  Here  you  stand  at  the  entrance  of  my  realm.  I 
have  made  myself  at  home  in  almost  every  part  of  the 
tower;  it  is  our  female  fortress.  When  these  solid  oak 
doors  are  closed  we  ladies  can  found  an  Amazonian 
kingdom,  and  without  danger  fire  fir-cones  upon  the 
whole  male  world,  for  this  is  the  fruit  that  flourishes 
best  here.  Come,  Mr.  Werner,  I  will  take  you  to  the 
place  where  your  thoughts  linger  more  willingly  than 
with  children  of  the  present." 

A  winding  stone  staircase  connected  the  stories  of 
the  tower,  each  of  which  contained  rooms  and  closets ; 
the  highest  was  a  loft.  The  Princess  pointed  mys- 
teriously to  the  staircase. 

"  Yonder  at  the  top,  below  the  rafters,"  said  the 
Princess  to  the  Professor,  "  the  whole  space  is 
crammed  with  old  household  furniture.  I  could  not 
restrain  my  curiosity,  so  yesterday  I  just  peeped  into 
the  room  ;  the  things  lie  heaped  up  in  wild  confusion  ; 
we  shall  have  much  work." 

The  Professor  examined  with  pleasure  the  well- 
preserved  stone-work  of  the  arched  doors  and  the  ar- 
tistic work  of  the  old-time  lock-smith.  Little  had  been 


360  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

done  in  modern  times  to  make  the  walls  look  respect- 
able or  to  repair  damage  ;  but  any  one  who  took 
interest  in  the  chisel  and  carving  tools  of 'the  old 
builders,  might  perceive  everywhere  with  pleasure  that 
the  tower  could  easily  be  changed  into  a  masterpiece 
of  ancient  style. 

The  servant  opened  the  door  into  the  Princess's 
rooms.  These  also  were  simply  arranged.  The  broken 
painted  glass  of  the  small  window  had  been  repaired 
with  panes  coarsely  painted  ;  only  fragments  of  the 
old  pictures  still  adhered  to  the  lead. 

"  There  is  still  much  to  be  done  here,"  explained 
the  Princess  ;  "  and  we  shall  gradually  have  everything 
arranged  within  the  next  few  years." 

The  clatter  of  the  Castellan's  keys  were  heard  in  the 
anteroom,  and  the  Professor  turned  towards  the  door. 

"One  moment's  patience,"  cried  the  Princess,  and 
she  flew  into  an  adjoining  room.  She  returned  in  a 
grey  cloak  with  a  hood,  which  enveloped  her  in  its 
folds,  only  the  delicate  face,  the  large  beaming  eyes, 
and  smiling  mouth  being  visible. 

"It  is  only  in  this  gnome  costume  that  I  venture  to 
approach  the  dusty  spirits  of  the  lumber-room." 

They  ascended  to  the  highest  story.  While  the 
Castellan  was  picking  out  the  key  from  the  bunch,  the 
Professor  eagerly  examined  the  door,  and  remarked, 
"More  beautiful  mouldings  by  your  old  lock-smith." 

"I  have  hopes,"  said  the  Princess. 

"Everything  looks  that  way,"  replied  the  learned 
man. 

The  heavy  door  creaked  on  its  hinges,  and  a  large 
room  presented  itself  to  the  eyes  of  the  searchers.  A 
bright  light  shone  through  the  narrow  openings  in  the 
wall  upon  the  mysterious  apartment;  atoms  of  dust  were 


IN  THE  PRINCESS'S  TOWER.  361 

seen  whirling  about  in  the  straight  shafts  of  air,  while 
before  and  beyond  all  was  confusion  wrapt  in  semi- 
darkness.  Old  furniture  was  piled  up  in  hopeless  con- 
fusion ;  gigantic  wardrobes  with  broken  doors,  heavy 
tables  with  balls  for  feet,  chairs  with  straight  backs 
and  leather  cushions,  from  which  the  horsehair  bris- 
tled out ;  together  with  fragments  of  old  weapons,  hal- 
berds, corroded  greaves,  and  rusty  helmets.  Indis- 
tinct and  vague,  the  forms  appeared  among  each  other: 
legs  of  chairs,  flat  pieces  of  wood  with  inlaid  work, 
and  heaps  of  old  iron  lying  all  around.  It  was  a  chaos 
of  frippery,  the  artistic  products  of  many  centuries. 
Their  hand  touched  the  table  at  which  a  contemporary 
of  Luther  had  sat ;  their  foot  pushed  against  a  chest 
which  had  been  broken  open  by  Croats  and  Swede  ;  or 
against  the  white  lacquered  chair,  with  moth-eaten 
velvet  cushions,  on  which  a  court  lady  had  once  sat,  in 
a  hoop  dress,  with  powdered  hair.  Now  all  lay  to- 
gether in  desolate  heaps,  the  cast-off  husks  of  former 
generations,  half  destroyed  and  quite  forgotten  ;  empty 
chrysales,  from  which  the  butterflies  had  flown.  All 
were  covered  with  a  grey  shroud  of  dust — the  last  ashes 
of  vanished  life.  What  once  had  form  and  body,  now, 
crushed  into  powder,  whirled  about  in  the  air;  clouds 
of  dust  opposed  the  entrance  of  those  who  came  to 
disturb  its  possession  ;  it  hung  to  the  hair  and  clothes 
of  the  living  intruders,  and  glided  slowly  through  the 
open  door  to  the  rooms,  where  varied  colors  and  bril- 
liant ornament  surrounded  the  inmates,  in  order  there 
to  carry  on  the  endless  struggle  of  the  past  with  the 
present — the  quiet  struggle  that  is  daily  renewed  in 
great  and  small  things  which  makes  new  things  old, 
and  finally  dissolves  the  old  in  order  that  it  may  help 
to  nourish  the  germ  of  youthful  life. 


362  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

The  Professor  glanced  like  a  hawk  amidst  the  legs 
of  tables  and  chairs  in  the  dusky  background. 

"  Some  things  have  lately  been  removed  from  here," 
he  said  ;  "there  has  been  some  sweeping  among  the 
furniture  in  the  front." 

"I  yesterday  endeavored  to  clean  a  little,"  said 
the  Castellan,  "  because  your  Highness  expressed  a 
wish  to  enter  here  ;  but  we  have  not  gone  far." 

"  Have  you  ever  formerly  examined  the  furniture 
in  this  room  ?  "  asked  the  Professor. 

"  No,"  replied  the  man.  "  I  was  only  placed  here 
last  year  by  his  Highness  the  Sovereign." 

"  Is  there  any  catalogue  of  the  things  ?  "  said  the 
Professor. 

The  man  said  there  was  not. 

"Do  you  know  if  there  are  chests  or  trunks  here  ?  " 

"  I  think  I  have  observed  something  of  the  kind," 
replied  the  Castellan. 

"Fetch  the  workmen  to  move  the  things,"  ordered 
the  Princess.  "To-day  every  part  of  this  attic  shall  be 
examined." 

The  Castellan  hastened  down.  The  Professor  en- 
deavored again  to  peep  among  the  piled-up  masses, 
but  the  glaring  light  from  above  dazzled  his  eyes. 
He  looked  at  the  princely  child  ;  she  was  standing  in 
a  costume  of  bright  color  at  the  door,  like  the  fairy  of 
the  castle,  who  has  ascended  into  the  dwelling  of  the 
grey-bearded  spirits  of  the  house  in  order  to  accept 
their  homage. 

"  It  will  be  a  long  work,  and  your  Highness  will 
not  like  the  dragging  about  of  the  dusty  furniture." 

"I  will  remain  with  you,"  exclaimed  the  Princess; 
"however  contemptibly  small  may  be  my  share  in  the 
discovery,  I  will  not  give  it  up." 


IN  THE  PRINCESS'S  TOWER.  363 

Both  were  silent.  The  scholar  moved  about  im- 
patiently among  the  chairs.  Moths  fluttered  in  the 
clouds  of  dust,  and  a  brown  martin  flew  out  from  the 
nest  which  it  had  built  in  a  corner  of  the  window.  All 
was  still ;  there  was  no  sound  but  a  slight  regular 
tapping,  like  a  pendulum  striking  the  hour,  in  the  des- 
olate room. 

"That  is  the  death-watch,"  whispered  the  Princess. 

"  The  wood-worm  is  doing  its  work  in  the  serv- 
ice of  nature,  it  dissolves  what  is  decayed,  into  its  ele- 
ments." 

The  sound  ceased,  but  after  a  time  began  to  tick 
again,  then  a  second  ;  they  tapped  and  gnawed  inces- 
santly, down,  down,  and  further  down !  Over  the 
heads  of  the  searchers  the  jackdaws  were  croaking, 
and  further  off  the  song  of  the  nightingale  sounded 
softly  upon  the  labor  of  those  who  were  unearthing  the 
past. 

The  workmen  came ;  they  brought  one  article  after 
another  to  the  front  of  the  room.  Thicker  rose  the 
discoloring  dust ;  the  Princess  took  refuge  in  the  ante- 
room, but  the  Professor  did  not  leave  his  post.  He 
worked  hard  himself,  raising  and  arranging  things  in 
the  front  row.  He  went  back  for  a  moment  to  the 
door  to  take  breath,  the  Princess  received  him  laughing. 

"  You  have  undergone  a  complete  transformation. 
You  look  as  if  you  had  been  awaiting  resurrection  in 
this  room,  and  I  do  not  think  I  look  much  better." 

"  I  see  a  chest,"  said  the  Professor,  and  hastened 
back.  Another  confused  medley  of  chairs'  legs  and 
backs  were  lifted  away,  and  the  workmen  laid  hold  of 
a  little  chest  which  stood  in  the  dark.  "  Set  it  down," 
ordered  the  Castellan,  who  quickly  passed  a  large 
brush  over  it.  It  was  carried  to  the  light  and  appeared 


364  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

to  be  a  trunk  of  pine  wood  with  an  arched  top  ;  the  oil 
color  of  the  paint  had  disappeared  in  many  places. 
There  were  iron  clamps  at  the  corners,  and  a  rusty 
key  that  held  fast  the  staple  of  the  lock,  but  hung 
loosely  in  the  wood.  On  the  cover  of  the  chest,  which 
was  dusty  and  worn,  a  black  '  2 '  was  visible.  The  Pro- 
fessor had  the  chest  put  at  the  feet  of  the  Princess. 
He  pointed  to  the  cipher. 

"This  is  probably  one  of  the  chests  that  the  official 
of  Rossau  sent  to  the  castle  Solitude,"  he  said,  with  as- 
sumed composure,  but  his  voice  trembled. 

The  Princess  knelt  down  and  endeavored  to  raise 
the  cover,  the  lock  broke  away  from  the  wood,  and  the 
chest  opened. 

Above  lay  a  thick  book,  bound  in  parchment. 
Quickly  the  Professor  pounced  upon  it,  like  a  lion  on 
his  prey,  but  he  laid  it  down  again  immediately.  It 
was  an  old  missal,  written  on  parchment,  the  cover 
damaged  and  torn,  the  layers  of  parchment  hung 
loosely  in  the  book.  He  put  his  hand  again  in  the 
chest,  a  torn  hunting  net  filled  the  remaining  space  ; 
beside  that  some  damaged  cross-bows,  a  bundle  of 
arrows,  and  small  iron-work.  He  raised  himself,  his 
cheeks  were  pale,  his  eyes  glowed. 

"This  is  No.  2,  where  is  No.  i,"  he  exclaimed. 
He  hurried  back  into  the  room,  the  Princess  followed. 
"Forward,  men,"  he  cried  out,  "fetch  the  other  trunk." 

The  men  continued  their  work. 

"  There  is  something  here,"  said  one  of  the  work- 
men ;  the  Professor  hastened  to  the  spot,  raised  and 
drew  it  out,  it  was  only  an  empty  chest. 

The  work  went  on.  The  Marshal  also  had  been 
brought  here  by  curiosity  ;  he  eagerly  viewed  the  old 
furniture,  and  caused  those  pieces  to  be  placed  to- 


IN  THE  PRINCESS'S  TOWER.  365 

gether,  which,  according  to  his  idea,  might  be  mended 
and  used  in  the  castle.  The  staircase  was  filled  with 
household  goods,  arid  one  of  the  servants'  rooms  was 
opened  that  the  old  things  might  be  deposited  in  it. 
An  hour  had  passed,  the  room  became  more  empty, 
the  sun  was  sinking,  its  rays  reflected  the  image  of  the 
opening  in  the  wall  on  the  opposite  side  ;  the  other 
chest  was  not  to  be  found. 

"  Remove  everything,"  said  the  Professor,  "  even 
to  the  last  piece  of  wood. 

A  heap  of  old  lances,  broken  glasses  and  pottery 
were  fetched  out  of  the  corner,  also  broken  legs  of 
tables,  split  pieces  of  veneered  wood,  and  in  the  cor- 
ner a  great  pewter  tankard  : — the  space  was  clear. 
On  the  floor  lay  gnawed  pieces  on  which  the  death- 
watch  had  already  done  its  work. 

The  Professor  entered  the  door  again. 

"  This  room  is  cleared,"  he  said,  with  forced  com- 
posure, to  the  Castellan.  "  Open  the  next  room." 

"I  do  not  believe  that  you  will  find  anything  in  it," 
replied  the  weary  man.  "  You  will  only  find  old 
shelves  and  stoves  there  that  formerly  stood  in  the 
castle." 

"  Let  us  go  in,"  said  the  Professor. 

The  Castellan  opened  the  door  hesitatingly  ;  a 
second  room,  still  larger  and  less  inviting,  came  to 
view  ;  sooty  earthen  pans,  bricks,  and  slabs  of  slate, 
lay  mountain-high  at  the  entrance,  and  over  these 
were  wooden  tools  that  probably  had  been  used  in  the 
last  repairs  of  the  castle. 

"  I  am  glad  to  see  this,"  said  the  Marshal  ;  "such 
a  load  on  the  upper  story  is  wrong.  This  lumber 
must  be  taken  out  of  the  tower." 

The  Professor  had  ascended  a  hill  of    slate   slabs, 


366  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

and  was  seeking  in  the  darkness  for  another  trunk,  but 
the  chaos  was  too  great. 

"  I  will  have  it  cleared  out  immediately,"  said  the 
Marshal,  consolingly,  "  but  it  may  take  a  long  time  ; 
we  shall  hardly  get  through  to-day." 

The  Professor  looked  imploringly  at  the  Princess. 

"Get  more  people,"  she  commanded. 

"Even  with  that  it  will  soon  be  dark,"  replied  the 
Marshal,  prudently.  "  We  shall  see  how  far  we  can 
get.  At  all  events  the  Professor  may  betimes  to-mor- 
row find  the  entrance  prepared." 

"  Meanwhile  let  us  shake  the  dust  from  our  clothes," 
said  the  Princess,  "and  come  into  my  library  ;  it  lies 
just  under  us,  you  can  there  overlook  the  work  of  the 
people  who  are  clearing  away.  The  chest  shall  be 
conveyed  into  my  library.  I  will  take  it  with  me,  and 
shall  expect  you." 

Two  men  carried  No.  2  into  the  library,  and  the 
Professor  went  unwilling  to  his  room  to  dress. 

The  Princess  walked  about  the  room  where  the  old 
chest  had  been  placed,  awaiting  the  return  of  the 
scholar.  With' a  heavy  heart  she  looked  forward  to 
meeting  him  ;  she  concealed  in  her  soul  a  wish  and  a 
commission.  The  Sovereign  had  taken  leave  of  her 
this  time  with  more  kindness  than  he  had  done  for 
years  ;  before  her  departure,  he  had  led  her  into  a  side 
room  and  spoken  to  her  about  Werner. 

"  You  know  that  one  cannot  leave  too  much  to 
honest  Bergau  ;  I  should  be  glad  if  you  will  also  do 
your  best  to  keep  the  learned  man  with  us.  I  have 
got  accustomed  to  him  in  this  short  time  and  would 
unwillingly  miss  his  enlivening  society.  But  I  do  not 
think  of  myself  alone.  I  am  becoming  old,  and  such 
a  man  would  be  of  the  greatest  value  to  your  brother 


IN  THE  PRINCESS'S  TOWER.  367 

for  his  whole  life— a  man  in  full  vigor,  who  is  always 
collected  and  calm  in  the  midst  of  our  distracting 
doings  :  I  therefore  wish  this  intimacy  to  be  preserved 
and  increased  for  you  both  :  for  you  also,  Sidonie.  I 
have  seen  with  especial  satisfaction  how  enthusiastic- 
ally you  enter  into  the  studies  of  our  learned  men. 
Your  mind  will  not  be  sufficiently  interested  with  the 
twittering  of  the  well-mannered  birds  who  surround 
us  ;  some  assistance  from  a  talented  person  will  open 
to  you  a  nobler  conception  of  the  world.  Endeavor  to 
gain  this  man  :  every  kind  of  burdensome  duty  shall 
be  spared  to  him  ;  what  now  makes  his  position  un- 
certain shall  be  removed  as  soon  as  he  is  installed 
with  us.  I  do  not  insist  upon  your  speaking  to  him, 
I  only  wish  it ;  and  I  wish  you  to  believe  that  in  this 
also  I  am  thinking  of  your  future." 

Without  doubt  this  was  the  case. 

The  Princess  had  listened  to  the  words  of  her  father 
with  the  quiet  criticism  that  was  customary  between 
such  near  relations.  But  the  words  of  the  Sovereign 
on  this  occasion  met  with  such  an  echo  in  her  soul, 
that  she  expressed  her  willingness  to  speak  to  Mr. 
Werner. 

"  If  you  undertake  this,"  the  Sovereign  said,  in 
conclusion,  "  you  must  not  do  it  by  halves.  Employ 
all  the  mild  influence  that  you  can  exercise  over  him, 
obtain  his  square  word  and  promise  for  whatever  he  is 
inclined  to  accede  to." 

The  Princess  now  thought  over  these  words  with 
disquietude.  Ah  !  she  would  gladly  have  conveyed  to 
the  heart  of  this  much  valued  man  the  wishes  of  her 
own,  but  she  felt  annoyed  and  perplexed  that  her 
secret  feelings  should  be  made  subservient  to  the  will 
of  another. 


368  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

The  Professor  entered  the  library  of  the  Princess ; 
he  gave  a  glance  at  the  casts  and  books  which  were 
lying  about,  just  unpacked  and  unarranged,  and 
began  : 

"When  one's  hopes  have  been  so  much  raised,  it 
is  difficult  to  bear  suspense.  One  cannot  help  laugh- 
ing over  the  mocking  accident  which  brings  us  in  con- 
tact with  a  monk  whose  work  is  of  no  value,  and  with- 
holds from  us  that  of  the  other  which  is  of  immeasur- 
able importance." 

The  Princess  pointed  with  her  hand  to  the  door  : 
outside  were  heard  the  steps  of  people  carrying  some- 
thing. 

"  Only  have  a  little  patience  ;  if  there  is  nothing 
more  to-day  there  may  be  to-morrow." 

"  To-morrow  ! "  exclaimed  the  Professor  ;  "  a  whole 
night  lies  between.  Meanwhile  the  worm  gnaws  in- 
cessantly, and  all  the  powers  of  destruction  are  at 
work.  Numberless  are  the  possibilities  that  separate 
us  from  our  hope  :  that  acquisition  alone  is  certain 
which  we  have  in  our  hands." 

He  examined  the  chest. 

"  It  is  much  smaller  than  I  imagined.  By  what 
accident  did  the  missal  lie  in  it  ?  It  is  not  even  cer- 
tain whence  it  came,  and  it  is  still  very  doubtful  what 
may  lie  concealed  in  the  other  chest." 

The  Princess  raised  the  top. 

"  Let  us  meanwhile  pay  attention  to  the  little  we 
have  found." 

She  took  up  the  parchment  volume,  and  put  it  in 
the  hands  of  the  learned  man.  Some  leaves  slipped 
out ;  the  Professor  caught  hold  of  them  ;  his  eyes  con- 
tracted, he  jumped  up  and  hastened  to  the  window. 

"These  leaves  do  not  belong  to  it,"  he  said,  read- 


IN  THE  PRINCESS'S  TOWER.  369 

ing  them.  At  last  he  exclaimed  :  "  A  piece  of  the  man- 
uscript is  found." 

He  held  out  the  leaves  to  the  Princess  ;  his  hand 
trembled,  and  the  agitation  of  his  countenance  was 
such  that  he  was  obliged  to  turn  away.  He  hastened 
to  the  table  and  searched  the  missal,  opening  it  leaf 
by  leaf,  from  beginning  to  end.  The  Princess  held  the 
leaves  in  her  hand  in  eager  expectation,  and  ap- 
proached him.  As  he  looked  up  he  saw  two  large  eyes 
fixed  on  him  with  tender  sympathy.  Again  he  seized 
the  two  leaves,  "What  I  have  here,  he  cried,  is  both 
valuable  and  discouraging ;  one  could  almost  weep 
that  it  is  not  more  ;  it  is  a  fragment  out  of  the  sixth 
book  of  the  annals  of  Tacitus,  that  we  already  pos- 
sess in  another  manuscript.  These  are  two  leaves 
of  a  parchment  volume,  but  between  them  many  are 
lost.  The  writing  is  well  preserved  —  better  than  I 
should  have  expected.  It  is  written  by  a  German, 
in  the  characters  of  the  twelfth  century." 

"  He  looked  quickly  over  the  contents  in  the  light 
of  the  setting  sun.  The  Princess  glanced  over  his 
shoulder  curiously  at  the  thick  letters  of  the  monk's 
hand. 

"It  is  correct,"  he  proceeded,  more  calmly,  "the 
discovery  is  of  the  greatest  interest.  It  will  be  in- 
structive to  compare  this  manuscript  with  the  only  one 
extant."  He  looked  at  it  again.  "  If  it  is  a  copy,"  he 
murmured,  "  perhaps  both  indicate  a  common  source. 
Thus  the  manuscript  that  we  are  seeking  must  be  torn; 
these  leaves  have  fallen  out,  and  perhaps  during  the 
packing  up  have  been  shoved  into  a  wrong  book. 
There  is  much  still  that  is  mysterious ;  but  the  main 
fact  appears  to  me  certain,  that  we  have  here  a  rem- 
nant of  the  manuscript  of  Rossau,  and  this  discovery 


370  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

ought  to  be  a  guarantee  that  the  remainder  is  at  hand. 
But  how  much  of  it  ?  "  he  continued,  gloomily,  "  and 
in  what  condition  will  it  be  ?  " 

He  again  listened  anxiously  to  the  steps  of  the  men 
who  were  clearing  away  in  the  loft.  He  rushed  out  of 
the  room  up  the  stairs,  but  returned  in  a  few  minutes. 

"The  work  goes  on  slowly,"  he  said  ;  "as  yet  there 
is  nothing  to  be  seen." 

"  I  do  not  know  whether  to  wish  that  it  should  go 
on  quickly,"  exclaimed  the  Princess,  cheerfully;  but 
her  eyes  gave  the  lie  to  her  smiling  mouth.  "  You 
must  know  that  I  am  very  selfish  in  helping  you  to 
find  the  manuscript.  As  long  as  you  are  searching  you 
belong  to  us.  When  you  have  obtained  the  treasure, 
you  will  withdraw  yourself  into  your  invisible  world, 
and  the  retrospect  alone  will  remain  to  us.  I  have  a 
mind  to  close  the  remaining  rooms  of  the  house,  and 
only  to  open  one  to  you  each  year,  until  you  have  be- 
come quite  at  home  with  us." 

"  That  would  be  cruel  not  to  me  alone,"  replied  the 
Professor. 

The  Princess  stepped  up  to  him.  "  I  do  not  speak 
mere  empty  words,"  she  said,  in  a  changed  tone.  "  My 
father  wishes  you  to  make  your  home  with  us.  Ber- 
gau  is  commissioned  to  enter  into  business  arrange- 
ments, but  they  are  not  of  the  nature  to  determine 
your  decision.  Yet  when  I  express  the  same  wish, 
that  you  should  remain  with  us,  I  do  it  from  my  own 
heart." 

"  This  demand  upon  me  is  very  unexpected,"  an- 
swered the  learned  man,  with  astonishment.  "  My 
custom  is  to  weigh  such  proposals  calmly,  and  from  dif- 
ferent points  of  view.  I  therefore  beg  your  Highness 
not  to  require  an  answer." 


IN  THE  PRINCESS'S  TOWER.  371 

"  I  cannot  let  you  off,"  exclaimed  the  Princess.  "  I 
should  like  to  gain  you  in  my  own  way.  You  shall 
choose  your  office  and  occupation  here  as  freely  as  is 
compatible  with  our  different  relations  :  you  shall  have 
every  kind  of  distinction,  and  every  wish  that  it  is  in 
the  power  of  the  Sovereign  to  satisfy  shall  be  fulfilled." 

"I  am  a  teacher  in  the  University,"  replied  the 
Professor.  "  I  teach  with  pleasure,  and  not  without 
success.  My  whole  nature  and  the  course  of  my  edu- 
cation fit  me  for  this  vocation.  The  rights  and  duties 
which  enclose  my  life  have  a  firm  hold  on  me.  I  have 
pupils,  and  I  am  engrossed  with  the  work  in  which  I 
wish  them  to  partake." 

"  You  will  never  find  pupils  that  will  be  more  truly 
devoted,  or  cling  more  warmly  to  you,  than  my  brother 
and  myself." 

"  I  am  not  a  tutor  who  can  for  any  length  of  time 
oversee  the  duties  of  a  prince  ;  I  am  accustomed  to  the 
rigid  method  of  the  professor,  and  to  quiet  labor 
among  my  books." 

"  This  last  part  of  your  occupation,  at  least,  will 
not  be  lost  to  the  world  by  your  remaining  here.  This 
is  just  the  place  where  you  would  find  leisure,  perhaps 
more  than  among  your  students." 

"This  new  life  would  bring  me  new  duties,"  re- 
plied the  Professor,  "  which  I  should  feel  called  upon 
to  fulfill.  It  would  occasion  me  also  distractions  to 
which  I  am  not  accustomed.  You  invite  a  man  whom 
you  regard  as  firm.  True,  in  his  own  circle  of  life,  that 
character  he  possesses  ;  but  you  have  no  surety  that 
in  another  sphere  of  life  he  will  continue  to  be  so.  Do 
not  believe  that  under  changed  circumstances  I  shall 
retain  the  repose  and  calmness  of  effort  that  the  mind 
of  a  worker  needs;  and  my  dissatisfaction  at  inner  dis- 


372  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

turbances  would  certainly  make  itself  felt  upon  those 
about  me.  But  even  if  I  could  hope  for"  all  regarding 
my  home  and  my  private  relations  that  would  make 
life  satisfactory  to  me,  I  must  still  take  into  consider- 
ation where  I  can  personally  be  most  useful ;  and  I  am 
not  at  present  convinced  that  this  would  be  the  case 
here." 

The  Princess  looked  down  sadly.  The  steps  of  the 
men  who  were  to  free  the  manuscript  from  the  piles 
of  rubbish  still  continued  to  sound  above. 

"Yet,"  continued  the  Professor,  "if  we  were  to  be 
fortunate  enough  to  find  the  manuscript,  many  days, 
perhaps  many  years  of  my  life  would  be  taken  up  by  a 
new  task,  which  would  be  so  great  that  I  might  find 
my  University  occupations  a  burden.  Then  I  should 
have  a  right  to  ask  myself,  in  what  surroundings  I 
should  best  be  able  to  advance  this  work.  In  this  case, 
I  should  also  have  a  right  to  leave  the  University  for 
a  long  time.  But  if  I  do  not  find  it,  it  will  be  painful 
to  me  to  part  from  here,  for  my  soul  will  long  hover 
restlessly  about  this  place." 

"  I  will  not  let  you  off  so  easily,"  cried  the  Princess. 
"  I  hear  only  the  words,  duty  and  manuscript.  Is  the 
liking  that  we  show  to  you,  then,  of  no  value  to  you  ? 
Forget,  now,  that  I  am  a  woman,  and  consider  me  as 
a  warm-hearted  boy,  who  looks  up  to  you  devotedly, 
and  is  not  quite  unworthy  of  your  interest." 

The  Professor  looked  at  the  student  who  stood  be- 
fore him  and  did  not  wish  to  be  considered  a  woman. 
The  Princess  had  never  looked  so  attractive.  He  gazed 
on  the  blushing  cheeks,  on  the  eyes  which  were  fast- 
ened so  expressively  on  his  countenance,  and  on  the 
rosy  lips  which  trembled  with  inward  emotion.  "  My 
pupils  generally  look  different  from  that,"  he  said, 


IN  THE  PRINCESS'S  TOWER.  373 

softly,  "  and  they  are  accustomed  to  criticize  their 
teacher  more  stringently." 

"Be  content  for  once,"  said  the  Princess,  "with 
finding  pure  admiration  in  a  susceptible  soul.  I  have 
before  said  how  much  I  value  your  acquaintance.  I 
am  no  empress  who  governs  a  kingdom,  and  do  not 
wish  to  employ  your  powers  in  my  interest.  But  I 
should  consider  it  the  highest  happiness  to  be  in  in- 
timate relations  with  your  mind,  to  listen  to  the  noble 
words  you  utter.  I  feel  a  longing  to  look  upon  life 
with  the  clear  eyes  of  a  man.  You  have  easily,  as  if 
in  play,  solved  riddles  that  have  tormented  me,  and 
answered  questions  with  which  I  have  struggled  for 
years.  Mr.  Werner,  you  have  taken  a  kind  interest  in 
me ;  if  you  go  from  here,  I  shall  find  myself  alone  in 
those  pursuits  with  which  I  should  most  prefer  being 
occupied.  If  I  were  a  man  I  should  seek  you  as  my 
teacher  ;  but  I  am  fettered  here,  and,  I  beckon  you 
to  me." 

The  learned  man  listened,  entranced,  to  the  soft 
voice  that  spoke  so  persuasively. 

"I  do  not  beg  for  myself  alone,"  continued  the 
Princess,  "  my  brother  also  needs  a  friend.  It  will  be 
his  task  to  take  charge  of  the  welfare  of  many.  What 
you  could  do  for.  his  mind  would  be  for  the  benefit  of 
others.  When  I  look  away  from  the  present,  and  dream 
of  the  future  of  our  princely  house  and  of  this  country, 
I  feel  proud  that  we,  brother  and  sister,  have  a  presage 
of  what  will  be  demanded  in  our  time  from  princes, 
and  I  feel  an  ambition  that  we  should  both,  before  all 
others,  show  ourselves  worthy  of  this  high  calling.  I 
hope  to  see  a  new  life  developed  in  my  home,  and  my 
brother  and  myself  surrounded  by  the  best  minds  of 
our  nation.  Thus  we  should  live  sensibly  and  earnestly 


374  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

together,  as  our  times  require  ;  it  should  be  no  pleas- 
ure-loving Court  after  the  old  style,  but  a  hearty  inter- 
course between  the  Sovereign  and  the  mind  of  the 
nation.  That  will  make  us  freer  and  better  in  our- 
selves, and  will  be  an  advantage  to  the  whole  people ; 
it  will  also  be  a  bright  remembrance  for  future  times. 
When  I  think  of  such  a  future,  then,  Mr.  Werner,  I 
see  you  as  the  dear  companion  of  our  life,  and  the 
thought  makes  me  proud  and  happy." 

The  sun  was  setting,  and  its  last  rays  fell  glowing 
upon  the  Princess  and  the  head  of  the  scholar.  Sweetly 
sounded  the  song  of  the  nightingale  among  the  elder- 
bushes;  the  Professor  stood  silent  opposite  the  beauti- 
ful woman  who  painted  life  to  him  in  such  rosy 
colors ;  his  heart  beat  and  his  strength  failed  him. 
He  saw  before  him  two  eloquent  eyes,  and  the  sound 
of  the  entreating  words,  "  Remain  with  us,"  rang  with 
entrancing  magic  once  more  in  his  ear. 

Something  rustled  near  the  Princess;  the  leaves  of 
the  manuscript  which  she  had  taken  fell  to  the  ground. 
The  Professor  bent  down  to  pick  them  up,  and  as  he 
raised  himself  again  began,  in  a  feeble  tone: 

"  Your  Highness  takes  a  bright  look  into  the  future; 
my  eye  is  accustomed  only  to  read  single  lines  in  the 
history,  of  past  ages.  Here  lies  my  first  task;  my 
dreams  hover  about  these  leaves.  I  am  only  a  man  of 
the  study,  and  I  should  become  less  were  I  to  en- 
deavor to  become  more.  I  know  that  I  deprive  myself 
of  much,  and  in  this  hour,  when  a  vision  of  a  brilliant 
life  shines  before  me  so  invitingly,  I  feel  this  more 
deeply  than  ever.  But  my  greatest  happiness  must  be, 
from  within  quiet  walls,  to  impress  upon  the  souls  of 
others  what  will  there  blossom  and  bear  fruit.  My 
greatest  reward  must  also  be  that  in  hours  of  triumph, 


IN  THE  PRINCESS'S  TOWER.  375 

when  filled  with  the  consciousness  of  power,  some 
pupil  of  mine  will  give  a  fleeting  thought  to  the  far- 
distant  teacher,  who  has  been  but  one  among  the 
thousands  that  have  formed  him,  but  one  among  the 
many  sowers  in  the  limitless  fields  of  science." 

Thus  spoke  the  scholar.  But  while  speaking,  with  a 
severe  struggle  for  composure,  what  was  true  and 
honorable,  he  did  not  think  only  of  the  truth,  nor 
only  of  the  treasure  which  he  was  seeking,  but  of  the 
greater  one  which  he  had  left  in  order  to  pursue  his 
quest  with  the  beautiful  fairy  of  the  tower.  He  heard 
the  beseeching  words,  "  Do  not  go,  Felix,"  and  they 
were  a  timely  warning.  "  When  I  return  to  her,  will 
she  be  contented  with  me  ?"  thought  the  innocent  man. 
He  was  spared  the  necessity  of  asking  the  question. 

The  rolling  of  a  carriage  was  heard  below,  and  the 
steps  of  the  servant  who  was  coming  to  announce  an 
arrival. 

"  Is  your  will  so  inflexible,  your  intention  so  firm!" 
exclaimed  the  Princess,  passionately."  But  I  am  also 
obstinate  ;  I  shall  continue  my  entreaties.  War  be- 
tween us  two,  Mr.  Werner!  Farewell,  till  evening." 

She  hastened  down  the  steps.  The  evening  light 
disappeared  behind  dark  clouds;  the  mist  hovered 
over  the  meadows  and  hung  on  the  tops  of  the  trees; 
and  the  daws  flew  croaking  round  the  walls  of  the 
tower.  The  door  of  the  room  above  creaked  on  its 
hinges,  and  the  Castellan  rattled  his  keys,  while  the 
scholar  looked  lovingly  at  the  leaves  which  he  held  in 
his  hand. 


376  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

CHAPTER  XXXVI. 
ILSE'S    FLIGHT. 

ILSE  was  awakened  by  her  husband's  parting  kiss  ; 
she  sat  at  her  bed-side  and  listened  to  the  sound  of 
the  rolling  wheels. 

"This  has  been  a  fearful  night,"  she  said;  "after 
tears  and  anguish  there  came  bad  dreams.  I  was 
hanging  over  a  precipice;  from  the  depth  below,  con- 
cealed by  fog,  arose  the  noise  of  a  waterfall.  Felix 
standing  above,  held  me  by  a  handkerchief;  his 
strength  was  giving  way;  I  felt  that,  but  I  had  no 
anxiety  about  it  in  my  dream.  I  wished  that  Felix 
would  let  me  go,  and  not  sink  with  me.  Pass  away  in 
peace,  my  dream,  to  thy  portals  of  ivory;  thou  wast 
a  good  dream,  and  1  have  no  cause  to  be  ashamed  of 
thee. 

"  He  is  on  his  journey,  and  I  am  alone.  No,  my 
Felix,  you  are  with  me,  even  when  I  do  not  hear  your 
voice.  Yesterday  I  was  angry  with  you;  I  am  sorry  for  it. 
I  bear  you  within  me,  just  as  you  have  taught  me,  that 
the  soul  of  man  passes  into  and  rests  in  others.  That 
part  of  Felix  which  I  preserve  within  me  I  will  keep 
honorably,  and  quietly  cherish  in  this  hateful  house." 

She  opened  the  curtains. 

"It  will  be  a  gloomy  day  again;  the  finches  are 
already  sitting  at  the  window,  crying  for  the  dilatory 
woman  who  has  slept  beyond  the  breakfast  hour  of 
her  little  ones.  Outside  all  is  in  bloom,  and  the  large 
leaves  of  the  Schubart-plant  blow  about  joyously  in 
the  moist  air.  But  this  rain  will  be  more  than  my 


ILSE'S  FLIGHT.  377 

father  likes;  the  seed  will  suffer.  The  good  God  cannot 
please  us  all  at  the  same  time;  we  are  indeed  covetous. 

"At  home  they  gossip  about  me;  my  neighbor  did 
not  say  the  worst  that  she  knew.  I  have  not  been  used 
to  this.  When  I  became  the  wife  of  my  Felix  I  thought 
myself  raised  above  all  the  meanness  of  the  world,  but 
I  now  feel  its  sting  in  my  soul." 

She  passed  her  hand  over  her  eyes. 

"  No  tears  to-day  ?"  she  cried  springing  up.  "  When 
my  thoughts  course  wildly  through  my  brain  I  will 
prove  to  myself  that  I  have  something  of  the  scholar's 
character  in  me,  and  will  calmly  look  into  my  own 
heart  and  quiet  its  beatings  by  prudent  reflection. 
When  he  first  came  to  our  house,  and  the  noble  spirit 
of  his  conversation  aroused  me,  his  image  pursued  me 
into  my  room.  I  took  a  book,  but  I  did  not  know  what 
I  read;  I  took  up  my  accounts,  but  I  could  not 
put  two  and  two  together;  I  observed  that  all  was  con- 
fusion within  me.  Yet  it  was  wrong  to  think  thus  about 
a  man  who  was  still  a  stranger  to  me.  Then  in  my 
anguish  I  went  into  the  nursery,  tidied  all  my  brother's 
and  sister's  things,  and  saw  whether  the  boy's  clothes 
needed  mending.  I  was  then  a  regular  home  body. 
Ah,  I  am  so  still;  I  hope  it  will  help  me  now.  I  will 
put  all  my  things  together  for  I  feel  as  if  I  should  take 
a  journey  to-day,  and  that  it  will  be  well  to  have  all 
prepared." 

She  opened  the  closet,  drew  out  her  trunk,  and 
packed  it. 

"But  where  to  ?"  she  asked  herself.  "Far  away? 
How  long  it  is  since  I  had  wings  like  a  swallow,  and 
could  gaily  fly  with  my  thoughts  into  foreign  parts! 
And  now  the  wings  of  the  poor  little  swallow  are 
broken.  I  sit  alone  on  my  branch;  I  would  gladly  con- 


378  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

ceal  myself  in  the  leaves,  and  I  dread  the  fluttering 
and  the  chattering  of  my  neighbors." 

She  supported  her  weary  head  with  her  hands. 

"Where  should  I  go  to?"  she  sighed;  "not  to  my 
father;  nor  could  I  now  look  with  pleasure  on  moun- 
tains and  old  monuments.  How  can  one  have  a  heart 
for  the  forms  of  nature  and  the  achievements  of  past 
nations  when  one's  own  life  is  racked  and  disturbed  ? 

"  My  Felix  said  that  one  should  always  consider 
oneself  the  child  of  the  whole  human  race,  and  be 
elevated  by  the  high  thought  that  millions  of  the  dead 
and  living  are  united  to  us  in  an  indissoluble  unity. 
But  who  of  those  who  were  and  are  about  me  will 
relieve  my  tormented  soul  of  the  pangs  that  constantly 
trouble  me  ?  Who  will  deliver  me  from  dissatisfaction 
with  myself  and  from  fear  about  the  future?  Ah  me! 
It  may  be  a  teaching  to  inspire  man  in  hours  of  exal- 
tation, when  calmly  contemplating  all  about  him,  but 
for  him  who  is  writhing  in  torment  and  affliction,  the 
teaching  is  too  high,  too  high!" 

She  took  from  the  shelf  her  little  Bible,  which  had 
been  given  her  by  the  good  Pastor  on  her  departure 
from  her  father's  house,  and  drew  it  out  of  its  cover. 
"  I  have  long  neglected  to  read  you,  dear  book,  for 
when  I  open  your  pages  I  feel  as  if  I  had  two  lives; 
the  old  Use  revives  who  once  trusted  in  your  words; 
and  then  again  I  see  myself,  like  my  husband,  criti- 
cizing many  passages,  and  asking  myself  whether  what 
I  find  in  you  is  according  to  my  reason.  I  have  lost  my 
childish  faith,  and  what  I  have  gained  instead  gives 
me  no  certainty.  When  I  fold  my  hands  in  prayer,  as 
I  did  when  I  was  a  child,  I  know  that  I  dare  pray  for 
nothing  but  strength  to  overcome,  by  my  own  exertion, 
what  now  casts  down'my  spirit." 


ILSE'S  FLIGHT.  379 

The  gardener  entered  the  room,  as  he  did  every 
morning,  with  a  basket  of  flowers  which  the  lord  of 
the  castle  sent  her.  Use  rose  and  pointed  to  the  table. 

"Set  it  down,"  she  said,  coldly,  without  touching 
the  basket. 

She  had,  at  other  times,  frequently  expressed  to 
the  man  her  pleasure  in  the  beautiful  flowers  he  had 
cultivated.  It  had  always  given  him  pain  that  the 
illustrious  personages  of  the  castle  never  noticed  his 
rare  plants,  and  he  had  been  so  pleased  with  the  warm 
interest  taken  by  the  strange  lady  that  he  brought  the 
flowers  every  morning  himself,  and  pointed  out  to  her 
the  new  favorites  of  the  conservatory;  he  had  cut  for 
her  the  best  he  had. 

"The  others  do  not  notice  them,"  he  would  say; 
"and  she  remembers  the  Latin  names  too." 

He  now  placed  the  basket  of  flowers  down  with  a 
feeling  of  mortification. 

"There  are  some  new  specimens  of  the  calceolaria," 
he  began,  reproachfully;  "they  are  of  my  own  raising: 
you  will  not  see  others  of  this  kind." 

Use  felt  the  disappointment  of  the  gardener.  She 
approached  the  table,  and  said: 

"  They  are  indeed  very  beautiful;  but  flowers,  dear 
sir,  require  a  light  heart,  and  that  I  have  not  now.  I 
have  ill  repaid  your  kindness  to-day;  but  you  must 
not  be  angry  with  me." 

"  If  you  would  only  look  at  the  grey-spotted  ones, 
exclaimed  the  gardener,  with  the  enthusiasm  of  an 
artist;  "these  are  my  pride,  and  are  not  to  be  had 
anywhere  else  in  the  world." 

Use  admired  them. 

"I  had  taken  great  pains  for  many  years,"  con- 
tinued the  gardener.  "  I  had  done  all  I  could  to  obtain 


380  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

good  seed,  but  only  common  ones  came;  after  I  had 
almost  lost  courage,  the  new  kinds  blossomed  all  in 
one  year.  It  was  not  my  art,"  he  added,  honestly:  "  it 
is  a  secret  of  nature;  she  has  given  me  good  fortune, 
and  relieved  me  from  my  cares  all  at  once." 

"But  you  took  pains  and  did  your  best,"  answered 
Use;  "when  one  does  thus,  one  may  trust  to  the  good 
spirit  of  life." 

The  gardener  went  away  appeased;  Use  looked  at 
the  flowers. 

"Even  he  who  sent  you  has  become  to  me  an 
object  of  dread.  Yet  he  was  the  only  one  here  who 
showed  me  uniform  kindness  and  treated  me  with 
respect.  Felix  is  right:  there  is  no  reason  for  us  to  be 
disturbed  on  his  account.  Who  knows  whether  he  is 
much  to  blame  for  the  disagreeable  reports  about  this 
house.  I  must  not  be  unjust  towards  him;  but  when 
I  look  at  his  flowers,  it  seems  as  if  an  adder  lay  within 
them,  for  I  do  not  know  whether  his  soul  is  pure  or 
impure.  I  do  not  understand  his  ways,  and  that  makes 
me  uncertain  and  fearful." 

She  pushed  the  basket  away,   and   turned  from  it. 

The  maid  who  waited  upon  her  came  into  the 
room,  with  a  troubled  countenance,  and  begged  per- 
mission to  go  away  for  the  day,  as  her  mother  was 
very  ill  in  a  neighboring  village.  Use  asked  kindly 
about  the  woman,  and  gave  the  girl  the  desired  per- 
mission, with  good  wishes  and  advice.  The  maid  went 
slowly  out  of  the  room;  Use  looked  sorrowfully  after  her. 

"Her  heart,  too,  is  heavy.  It  is  well  that  Felix  is 
not  at  home,  for  I  can  now  be  alone  with  my  sorrow. 
It  will  be  a  quiet  day,  and  this  will  be  welcome  after 
yesterday's  storm." 

Again  there  was  a  knocking  at  the  door;  the  Castel- 


ILSE'S  FLIGHT.  381 

ian  brought  the  letters  that  the  postman  had  given 
him  for  the  Pavilion.  There  were  letters  from  her 
brothers  and  sisters  who  kept  up  a  regular  cor- 
respondence with  their  distant  Use.  A  ray  of  joy 
passed  over  her  serious  face. 

"This  is  a  pleasant  morning  greeting,"  she  said. 
"I  will  to-day  answer  my  little  band  in  detail.  Who 
knows  whether  I  may  have  time  for  it  next  week." 

She  hastened  to  the  writing-table,  read,  laughed, 
and  wrote.  Her  uneasiness  had  passed  away;  she 
chatted  like  a  lively  child  in  the  language  and  thoughts 
of  the  nursery.  Hours  flew  in  this  occupation.  Gabriel 
brought  up  and  carried  away  the  dinner.  When  in  the 
afternoon  he  found  her  still  bending  over  the  letters, 
he  lingered  by  her  and  hesitated  whether  he  should 
speak  to  her;  but  as  Use  was  so  deeply  engrossed  in 
her  work,  he  nodded  and  closed  the  door. 

Finally,  Use  wrote  to  her  father.  Again  her  thoughts 
became  sad,  anguish  rose  from  the  depth  of  her  heart, 
and  lay  like  a  burning  weight  on  her  bosom.  She  left 
her  writing-table,  and  paced  hastily  about  the  room. 
When  she  came  to  the  window,  she  saw  the  lord  of 
the  castle  coming  slowly  along  the  gravel  path  towards 
the  Pavilion. 

Use  stepped  back  quickly.  She  was  not  unaccus- 
tomed to  the  short  visits  of  the  Sovereign;  but  to-day 
she  felt  fearful,  the  blood  rushed  to  her  heart,  she 
pressed  her  hands  over  her  bosom,  and  struggled  for 
composure. 

The  door  flew  open. 

"I  come  to  inquire,"  began  his  Highness,  "how 
you  bear  your  solitude.  My  house  also  has  become 
empty,  my  children  are  gone  from  me,  and  it  is  lonely 
in  the  great  building." 


382  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

"  I  have  emploj^ed  my  leisure  in  intercourse  with 
distant  friends,"  answered  Use. 

She  would  not  on  this  occasion  mention  the  chil- 
dren to  the  Sovereign. 

"  Are  the  little  ones  who  play  about  in  your  home 
amongst  these  friends  ?"  he  asked  laughing.  "  Have 
the  children  again  expressed  their  wishes  to  you?" 

He  took  a  chair  and  invited  Use  to  be  seated.  His 
demeanor  made  her  more  composed  ;  his  manner  was 
that  of  a  discreet  and  well-intentioned  person. 

"Yes,  your  Highness,"  replied  Use;  "but  this  time 
my  younger  sister,  Luise,  was  the  most  active  cor- 
respondent." 

"Does  she  promise  to  become  like  you?"  asked 
the  Sovereign,  kindly. 

"She,is  now  twelve  years  old,"  replied  Use,  with 
reserve;  she  is  sentimental  upon  every  subject  and 
every  blade  of  grass  excites  her  fancy.  It  appears  as 
if  she  were  to  be  the  poetess  of  the  play-room.  I  do 
not  know  how  these  fantastical  ideas  have  come  into 
our  family.  In  her  letter  she  tells  me  a  long  story,  as 
if  it  had  happened  to  herself,  and  yet  it  is  only  a  tale 
which  she  has  read  somewhere.  For  since  I  have  left 
my  home,  more  story-books  have  reached  it  than  were 
there  in  my  youth." 

"  Probably  it  is  only  childish  vanity,"  said  the 
Sovereign,  kindly,  "  that  leads  her  to  substitute  an 
invention  for  truth." 

"That  is  it  exactly,"  answered  Use,  more  cheer- 
fully. "She  pretends  that  she  lost  her  way  in  the 
wood,  and  that  when  she  was  sitting  sorrowfully  among 
the  toad-stools,  the  little  animals  whom  she  was  in  the 
habit  of  feeding  in  our  court-yard, — the  white  mouse  in 
the  cage,  the  cats,  and  the  shepherd's  dog, — placed 


ILSE'S  FLIGHT.  383 

themselves  about  her  and  ran  before  her  till  she  found 
her  way  out  of  the  wood.  The  cat  together  with  the 
mouse,  your  Highness;  that  was  silly!  This  story  she 
related  boldly  as  if  it  were  the  truth,  and  expected  me 
to  think  it  touching.  That  was  too  much — but  I  have 
given  her  my  opinion  of  it." 

The  Sovereign  laughed,  laughed  from  his  heart. 
It  was  a  rare  sound  that  echoed  through  the  walls  of 
the  dark  room,  and  the  god  of  love  above  looked  down 
with  surprise  on  the  joyous  man. 

"  May  I  ask  how  you  criticized  this  poetic  state  of 
mind?"  asked  the  Sovereign.  "There  is  a  poetical 
idea  in  the  tale,  that  the  kindness-shown  to  others  will 
always  be  repaid  when  required.  But  it  is  unfortuna- 
tely only  an  poetic  idea;  gratitude  is  seldom  met  with 
in  real  life." 

"  One  ought  not,  in  life,  to  trust  solely  to  the  help 
of  others,"  replied  Use,  firmly;  "and  one  ought  not  to 
show  kindness  to  others  in  order  that  it  may  be  re- 
paid. There  is  indeed  a  strange  pleasure  felt  when 
some  chord  which  one  has  struck  brings  back  its  echo 
to  one's  heart ;  but  one  should  not  trust  to  it.  A  child 
that  has  lost  its  way  should  make  good  use  of  its  five 
senses  in  order  to  find  its  way  home  by  itself.  But, 
certainly,  one  ought  not  to  put  forth  poetical  ideas  as 
if  they  were  real  incidents.  I  was  obliged  to  scold 
her;  for,  your  Highness,  girls  in  these  days  must  have 
right  ideas  taught  them,  or  they  will  soon  lose  them- 
selves in  dreams." 

The  Sovereign  laughed  again. 

Where  are  the  wise  and  good  animals,  Lady  Use, 
that  will  give  you  friendly  counsel  in  your  time  of 
need? 

"You    are    too   strict,"    continued   the   Sovereign. 


3<=54  THE    LOST   MANUSCRIPT. 

"  The  witch  fancy  deceives  -the  judgment  of  even  us 
grown  up  people;  one  is  fearful  without  reason,  and 
one  hopes  and  trusts  without  justification.  The  per- 
son who  could  ever  command  a  true,  impartial  judg- 
ment of  his  own  position,  would  have  a  freedom  that 
would  make  life  hardly  endurable." 

"  Fancy  confuses  us,"  answered  Use,  looking  round, 
"but  it  warns  us  also." 

"What  is  warmth  of  feeling,  and  devotion  to 
others?"  continued  the  Sovereign,  sorrowfully.  "Noth- 
ing but  subtle  self-deceit.  If  I  now  am  flattered  by 
the  joyful  feeling  that  I  have  succeeded  in  sharing 
the  wealth  of  your  heart,  that  too  is  only  a  deception; 
but  it  is  a  dream  which  I  carefully  cherish,  for  it  does 
me  good.  With  a  happiness  which  I  have  long  been 
deprived  of,  I  listen  to  the  honest  tones  of  your  voice, 
and  the  thought  is  painful  to  me  that  I  shall  ever  be 
without  the  sweet  enjoyment  they  afford.  It  is  of 
greater  value  to  me  than  you  imagine." 

"  Your  Highness  speaks  to  me  as  to  a  true  friend," 
replied  Use,  drawing  herself  up;  "  and  when  I  take  to 
heart  the  kindly  tone  in  which  you  now  express  your 
sympathy,  I  have  to  believe  your  honesty  and  sincere 
intentions.  But  this  same  fancy,  which  you  blame 
and  praise,  disturbs  also  the  confidence  which  I  would 
gladly  have  in  your  Highness.  I  will  no  longer  be 
silent  about  it,  for  it  pains  me  after  such  kind  words, 
to  foster  any  unfounded  feeling  against  you."  She  rose 
hastily.  "  It  disturbs  my  peace  of  mind  to  feel  that  I 
dwell  in  a  house  which  the  feet  of  other  women  avoid." 

The  Sovereign  looked  astonished  at  the  woman 
who,  with  such  firmness,  controlled  her  inward  ex- 
citement. 

"  The  fortune-teller,"  he  murmured. 


ILSE'S  FLIGHT.  385 

"Your  Highness  knows  well  what  fancy  does," 
continued  Use,  sorrowfully.  "  It  has  tormented  my 
soul,  and  made  it  difficult  for  me  in  this  place  to  be- 
lieve in  the  esteem  of  which  your  Highness  assures 
me." 

"What  have  they  been  telling  you?"  asked  the 
Sovereign,  in  a  sharp  tone. 

"  What  your  Highness  ought  not  to  desire  to  hear 
from  my  lips,"  replied  Use,  proudly.  "  It  is  pos- 
sible that  the  master  of  a  Court  considers  such  things 
with  indifference.  I  say  that  to  myself.  But  it  is  a 
misfortune  to  me  to  have  been  here:  it  is  a  stain  on 
a  spotless  robe,  and  I  fix  my  eyes  wildly  upon  it;  I 
wash  it  away  with  my  hand,  and  yet  it  always  lies  be- 
fore me,  for  it  is  a  shadow  that  falls  from  without." 

The  Sovereign  looked  gloomily  before  him. 

"  I  shall  not  use  the  subterfuges  that  you  put  into 
the  mouth  of  a  master  of  a  Court,  for  I  feel  at  this 
moment,  deeply  and  passionately  like  you,  that  an  in- 
jury has  been  done  your  honor.  I  have  only  one  ex- 
cuse," he  continued,  with  passion:  "you  came  here  as 
stranger  to  us,  and  I  little  thought  what  a  treasure 
lay  concealed  near  me.  Since  that,  in  our  slight  inter- 
course, you  have  awakened  in  me  a  feeling  to  which 
I  yield  irresistibly.  It  is  seldom  permitted  me  by  fate 
to  say  undisguisedly  what  I  feel.  I  disdain  to  use  the 
impassioned  language  of  a  youth,  for  I  do  not  wish 
to  disquiet  you.  But  do  not  think  that  I  feel  less 
strongly  towards  you  because  I  know  how  to  conceal 
my  emotion." 

Use  stood  in  the  middle  of  the  room,  and  a  burning 
color  rose  to  her  cheeks. 

"  I  beg  your  Highness  not  to  say  another  word,  for 
it  is  not  right  that  I  should  listen  to  you." 


386  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

The  Sovereign  laughed  bitterly. 

"  I  have  already  wounded  you,  and  you  quickly 
make  it  plain  that  I  labored  under  an  illusion  when  I 
hoped  for  your  affection.  And  yet  I  am  so  completely 
your  slave,  that  I  beg  of  you  not  to  refuse  your  sym- 
pathy to  a  passion  which  glows  so  warmly  within 
me,  that  it  has  at  this  moment  entirely  deprived  me 
of  my  self-control." 

Use  gasped: 

"I  must  away  from  here." 

"Renounce  that  idea,"  cried  the  Sovereign,  beside 
himself.  "  I  cannot  be  deprived  of  your  presence  or 
of  the  sound  of  your  voice.  However  slightly  it  may 
gladden  me,  it  is  the  happiness  of  my  days — the  one 
great  feeling  in  a  life  without  pleasure  or  love.  The 
knowledge  that  you  are  near  me  maintains  me  in  my 
struggle  against  thoughts  that  stupefy  me  in  gloomy 
hours.  Like  the  devout  pilgrim  who  listens  to  the 
bell  of  the  hermitage,  I  listen  to  the  slightest  chord 
that  vibrates  from  your  life  into  mine.  Consent  to 
accept  the  devotion  of  a  lonely  man,"  he  continued, 
more  tranquilly.  "  I  vow  never  more  to  wound  your 
delicate  feelings.  I  vow  to  be  contented  with  that 
share  of  your  life  which  you  will  freely  give  me." 

"  I  repent  of  every  word  that  I  have  spoken  to  your 
Highness,  and  I  repent  of  every  hour  in  which  I  have 
thought  with  reverence  of  you,"  exlaimed  Use,  with 
kindling  anger.  "  I  was  a  poor  trusting  child,"  she 
continued,  excitedly.  "  I  bowed  submissively  to  my 
Sovereign  before  I  saw  him  as  he  is;  now  that  I  know 
him,  he  excites  abhorrence  in  me,  and  I  gather  up  my 
garment  and  say,  Monster,  begone  from  me  !  " 

The  Sovereign  fell  back  in  his  chair. 

"  It  is  an  old  curse  that  echoes  in  my  ears  from 


ILSE'S  FLIGHT.  387 

these  walls ;  it  is  not  your  own  heart  that  drives  me 
from  you.  From  your  lips  should  only  come  words  of 
love  and  compassion.  I  am  not  a  tempter,  I  am  my- 
self a  wanderer  in  the  wilderness,  with  nothing  about 
me  but  desert  sand  and  towering  rocks.  I  hear  the 
laughter  of  children ;  I  see  the  fair-haired  group 
passing  by  me ;  I  see  two  eyes  fixed  on  me  with 
kindly  greeting,  and  a  hand,  with  the  filled  cup,  which 
beckons  to  the  weary  one ;  and,  like  a  vision  of  mist, 
it  has  all  disappeared.  I  remain  alone,  and  I  sink  to 
my  destruction." 

He  closed  his  hands  over  his  eyes.  Use  did  not 
reply.  She  stood,  turned  from  him,  looking  through  the 
window  at  the  clouds  which  flitted  across  the  heaven. 

All  was  quiet  in  the  room.  Nothing  moved,  and 
no  one  spoke.  At  last  the  Sovereign  rose  slowly :  he 
approached  Use.  There  was  a  glassy  look  in  his  eye, 
and  he  moved  with  effort. 

"  If  I  have  wounded  you  by  what  I  have  said  in  a 
moment  of  overwhelming  passion,  forget  it.  I  have 
proved  to  you  that  I  am  not  yet  free  from  the  weak- 
ness that  hopes  to  gain  a  heart  which  would  beat  in 
unison  with  mine.  Remember  only  that  I  am  an  erring 
one  who  sought  comfort  from  you.  It  was  an  humiliat- 
ing request :  if  you  cannot  respond  to  it,  do  not  be 
angry  with  the  wretched  one  who  asks." 

He  gazed  on  her  with  a  long,  protracted  look  of 
burning  passion,  deadly,  wounded  pride,  and  something 
more,  that  inspired  her  with  terror,  but  she  looked  him 
firmly  and  rigidly  in  the  face.  He  raised  a  warning 
finger,  and  left  the  room. 

She  listened  to  his  tread  as  he  went  away,  marked 
every  step  as  he  descended,  and  when  he  closed  the 
house-door,  pulled  the  bell. 


388  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

Gabriel,  who  was  standing  in  the  anteroom,  entered 
quickly. 

"  I  wish  to  go  away  from  here,"  exclaimed  Use. 

"Where  to,  Mrs.  Werner?"  asked  the  frightened 
servant. 

"Where  to?"  echoed  in  Use's  ears. 

"  To  my  husband,"  she  said ;  but,  as  if  listening  to 
her  own  words,  she  shuddered.  He  also  was  in  a 
house  of  the  Sovereign.  He  was  with  the  daughter 
of  the  wicked  man.  He  himself  was  not  safe  there — 
his  wife  would  not  be  safe  with  him.  Where  to  ?  The 
question  whirled  in  her  head.  The  son  of  the  cruel 
man  was  with  her  father,  so  she  must  not  go  home ; 
her  neighbour  had  said  so.  She  sank  her  head  as  if 
stunned.  A  feeling  of  helplessness  lay  like  a  dead 
weight  upon  her ;  but  she  raised  herself  again,  and 
approached  Gabriel.  "  I  will  leave  this  city  to-day — 
at  once." 

The  servant  wrung  his  hands. 

"  I  knew  it  would  come  to  this,"  he  exclaimed. 

"You  knew  it,"  asked  Use,  gloomily;  "and  neither 
I  nor  my  husband  did?  Was  it  seen  to  every  passer- 
by, and  yet  a  secret  to  him  and  me  ?" 

"  I  noticed  that  there  was  something  about  this 
place  that  seemed  uncanny,"  answered  Gabriel,  "and 
that  no  one  trusted  the  distinguished  gentleman  who 
just  now  left.  How  could  I  tell  you  what  seemed  only 
my  foolish  fancy?" 

"  It  is  not  well  to  pay  too  little  attention  to  people's 
talk,"  replied  Use  ;  "  I  wish  to  go  to  some  place  where 
I  can  find  a  woman,  Gabriel.  Get  a  carriage  for  me 
immediately,  and  accompany  me  to  Mrs.  Rollmaus. 
We  will  leave  everything  here,  and  you  must  return 


ILSE'S  FLIGHT.  389 

to  the  house,  that  you  may  be  on  the  spot  when  my 
husband  comes  back." 

"Where  shall  I  get  a  carriage?"  asked  Gabriel, 
hesitatingly. 

"From  the  city,  and  not  from  the  castle  stable." 

Gabriel  stood  and  reflected.  At  last  he  said,  ab- 
ruptly : 

"  I  shall  go ;  be  careful  to  prevent  the  lackey  from 
learning  that  you  are  preparing  for  a  journey." 

"  No  one  shall  know  it,"  said  Use. 

Gabriel  hastened  away,  and  Use  locked  the  door 
and  flew  into  the  next  room.  There  she  collected  all 
that  was  indispensable  for  the  journey.  She  closed 
all  the  cupboards  and  wardrobes,  and  put  the  keys  in 
a  bunch.  "  When  Felix  comes,  he  shall  not  say  I  ran 
away  unthinkingly."  She  went  to  his  writing-table, 
and  sealed  up  the  letters  in  a  packet.  "  So  that  no 
curious  eye  can  look  upon  you,"  she  said.  When  she 
packed  up  the  letters  of  the  children  and  her  own 
answers,  a  shudder  came  over  her,  and  she  concealed 
the  bundle  rapidly  beneath  other  papers.  She  was  ready, 
and  Gabriel  had  not  yet  returned.  He  seemed  to 
linger  long.  With  firm  steps  she  went'  through  the 
rooms.  "  You  have  grown  more  strange  to  me  the 
longer  I  have  dwelt  here.  What  has  become  of  the 
brilliant  impression  of  the  first  evening?  It  was  a 
cold  splendor,  hostile  to  my  life.  I  would  gladly  root 
up  every  recollection  of  it  from  my  soul."  She  placed 
herself  on  the  spot  where,  in  the  night,  she  had  looked 
on  her  sleeping  husband.  "That  was  my  last  sor- 
rowful look  at  his  dear  face  ;  when  shall  I  see  it  again  ? 
I  go  from  you,  Felix ;  who  would  have  thought  it  when 
we  stood  together  before  the  altar?  I  leave  you  be- 
hind among  wicked  men ;  you  also  in  danger,  and  I 


39°  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

go  away  alone,  to  seek  safety  for  myself  far  from  you. 
Who  would  have  said  some  days  ago  that  I  should 
have  marked  him  a  liar  to  his  face  ?  I  go,  Felix,  in 
order  to  save  myself  for  you.  Think  of  that,  and  do 
not  be  angry  with  me.  I  would  not  have  gone  for  less 
cause."  She  sank  down  on  a  cushion,  and  wrung  her 
hands  with  tearless  sorrow.  She  lay  for  a  long  time 
in  this  condition.  At  last  there  was  a  knocking  at  the 
outer  door.  She  jumped  up  and  opened  it,  but  she 
drew  back  terrified  when  she  beheld  the  pale  coun- 
tenance of  her  faithful  servant. 

"  I  have  not  ordered  a  carriage,"  said  Gabriel,  "for 
it  would  be  of  no  use." 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  "  asked  Use,  angrily. 

"Any  carriage  that  went  from  here  would  not  take 
Mrs.  Werner  where  she  wishes,  but  only  where  another 
wishes." 

"  Then  we  will  go  ourselves,  and  take  a  vehicle  in 
the  city." 

"Wherever  we  go,"  replied  Gabriel,  "we  shall  be 
observed,  and  if  I  attempt  to  call  a  carriage  it  will  be 
taken  from  us." 

"You  are  frightened  yourself,  Gabriel,  and  see 
danger  where  none  exists,"  replied  Use,  annoyed. 

"  If  we  could  only  get  an  honest  man  to  take  you 
to  Mrs.  Rollmaus,"  continued  Gabriel  ;  "  but  it  is 
doubtful  whether  you  could  get  there.  Do  you  see 
that  man  below  by  the  castle  ?  He  goes  slowly  as  if  he 
were  taking  a  walk,  but  he  never  turns  his  eyes  from 
this  house.  That  is  one  of  our  spies,  and  he  is  not  the 
only  one." 

"Who  has  told  you  that?  "  asked  Use. 

"  I  have  a  good  friend  here  who  belongs  to  the 
castle,"  replied  Gabriel,  hesitating.  "  Do  not  be  angry, 


ILSE'S  FLIGHT.  391 

Mrs.  Werner,  that  I  asked  him,  for  he  knows  all  their 
tricks.  It  is  possible,  he  said,  that  we  may  succeed  ; 
for  one  cannot  assume  that  all  the  people  of  the  city 
are  robbers  or  deceivers,  but  it  is  uncertain  and  dan- 
gerous." 

Use  seized  her  hat  and  cloak. 

"I  am  going,  Gabriel,"  she  said,  quietly.  "Will 
you  accompany  me?" 

"  Dear  Mrs.  Werner,  wherever  you  wish, "  answered 
Gabriel.  "But  first  listen  to  my  proposal.  My  ac- 
quaintance thinks  that  the  safest  way  would  be,  if  the 
Crown  Inspector  should  fetch  you  himself  in  the  even- 
ing. The  evenings  are  dark,  and  you  may  then  per- 
haps be  able  to  leave  the  house  without  the  lackey  or 
any  one  else  remarking  it." 

"A  prisoner!"  exclaimed  Use.  "Who  is  your 
acquaintance?  "  she  asked,  looking  sharply  at  Gabriel. 

"He  is  true  as  gold, "  Gabriel  assured  her,  "and 
I  will  willingly  tell  you  later,  but  I  beg  you  not  to  ask 
me  to-day,  for  he  has  desired,  for  his  own  safety,  that 
no  one  should  be  told." 

"I  trust  in  your  faithfulness,"  replied  Use,  coldly; 
"but  you  yourself  may  be  deceived;  I  will  not  follow 
the  advice  of  a  stranger." 

'  He  has  offered  me  ahorse,"  said  Gabriel,  it  is 
outside  the  city.  If  you  will  give  me  a  line  to  the  Crown 
Inspector,  I  will  ride  there  and  bring  the  carriage  in 
good  time." 

Use  looked  gloomily  at  the  servant. 

"Many  hours  must  pass  away,  and  I  will  not  remain 
here  alone.  I  will  go  on  foot  along  the  high  road  to 
my  friends." 

"Look,  Mrs.  Werner,  at  the  sky;  a  storm  is  com- 
ing." 


392  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

"  I  do  not  care  for  it,"  exclaimed  Use;  "it  is  not 
the  first  time  I  shall  have  gone  through  the  rain.  If 
you  do  not  choose  to  accompany  me,  you  may  wait 
here  for  my  husband,  and  tell  him  that  I  have  gone 
away  to  my  home,  and  when  I  am  with  good  people  I 
will  write  to  him. " 

Gabriel  wrung  his  hands ;  Use  put  on  her  cloak. 

Suddenly  loud  altercation  was  heard  on  the  floor 
below.  Gabriel  hastily  opened  the  door;  the  bass  voice 
of  a  stranger  was  scolding  the  lackey  vehemently : 

"But  I  tell  you  I  am  not  the  man  who  will  allow 
the  door  to  be  shut  in  his  face;  she  is  at  home,  I  say." 

Use  threw  off  her  hat  and  cloak,  sprang  down  the 
stairs,  and  called  out. 

"Mr.  Hummel!  " 

"Your  most  obedient  servant,  Mrs.  Werner,"  cried 
out  Hummel.  "I  come  immediately,  only  I  will  first 
express  to  this  major-domo  my  high  opinion  of  him. 
You  are  a  scoundrel,  sir,  and  an  object  to  whom  I 
wish  such  treatment  as  he  deserves — a  well-seasoned 
switch  and  a  tight  halter.  I  am  coming,  Mrs.  Werner." 
He  ascended  the  stairs  heavily.  Use  flew  to  meet  him, 
led  him  into  her  room,  and  was  so  overcome  that  she 
laid  her  head  on  his  shoulder  and  wept. 

Mr.  Hummel  was  silent,  and  looked  sympathizingly 
at  Use. 

"  So  these  are  Court  ways?"  he  asked,  softly;  "and 
this  is  the  fashion  in  which  people  act  here?" 

"  My  husband  is  away.  I  wish  to  leave  this  place ; 
Mr.  Hummel,  do  help  me  to  escape  !  " 

"That  is  exactly  my  situation, "  said  Mr.  Hummel: 
"I  am  implicated,  myself,  in  an  elopement  affair.  I 
have  come  to  this  city  in  order  to  convey  to  you  a 
request  from  my  daughter  Laura,  and  to  bring  matters 


ILSE'S  FLIGHT.  393 

to  some  settlement  with  the  clergymen  here.  But 
where  do  you  wish  to  go  to  ?  " 

"To  kind  friends  who  will  take  me  to  my  father's 
house." 

"That  will  certainly  be  the  right  course,"  replied 
Mr.  Hummel. 

"In  times  of  despair,  when  everything  totters  in 
the  world,  the  child  should  go  back  to  the  father.  His 
faithfulness  remains  ;  she  is  twenty  years  old  before 
that  of  the  husband  begins.  As  your  father  is  not 
here,  allow  one  who  knows  what  it  is  to  feel  anxious 
about  a  child  to  take  the  place  of  a  father  to  you." 

Use  clung  to  him  :  Mr.  Hummel  pressed  her  hand, 
after  his  fashion,  tenderly ;  but  it  was  a  hard  press- 
ure. 

"  Now  for  composure  and  cool  blood.  It  can  be  no 
small  matter  which  moves  you  so  strongly.  I  will  not 
leave  you  until  I  see  you  well  protected."  He  looked 
at  Gabriel,  who  made  him  a  sign.  "Do  not  trouble 
yourself  further  in  the  matter.  Be  quietly  seated,  and 
allow  me  to  confer  with  Gabriel.  I  will  take  care  of 
everything  for  you,  and  I  shall  answer  for  everything. " 

Use  looked  at  him  thankfully  and  seated  herself 
obediently.  Mr.  Hummel  beckoned  Gabriel  into  the 
next  room. 

"What  has  happened  here  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  The  master  has  gone  away  for  a  few  days  ;  mean- 
while Mrs.  Werner  has  been  treated  in  an  unseemly 
way ;  great  wickedness  is  carried  on  here,  and  they 
will  not  let  her  go." 

"Not  let  my  lodger  go?"  cried  Mr.  Hummel; 
"  ridiculous  !  I  have  a  passport  to  Paris  in  my  pocket, 
we  will  skip  over  this  country  like  grasshoppers.  I  will 
fetch  a  conveyance  immediately." 


394  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

Gabriel  shook  his  head.  The  confidants  again  con- 
ferred together.  Mr.  Hummel  came  back  and  said, 
with  greater  seriousness,  to  Use  : 

"  Now  I  must  beg  of  you  to  write  a  few  lines  to  the 
Crown  Inspector — to  the  husband,  not  to  his  wife, 
otherwise  there  would  be  confusion.  You  must  request 
him,  immediately  after  the  receipt  of  this  letter,  if  he  is 
willing  to  do  a  great  kindness,  to  come  here  in  a  closed 
carriage,  to  stop  in  the  suburb,  at  the  Black  Bear ;  and 
he  must  not  leave  his  carriage.  Nothing  further.  This 
letter  Gabriel  will  convey  to  him.  How  he  does  so  is 
his  affair,  not  ours  ;  if  he  chooses  to  fly,  like  this 
ambiguous  genius  on  the  ceiling,  who  has  forgotten 
its  overcoat,  it  will  be  so  much  the  better.  Now  the 
letter  is  written,  forgive  me  if  I  read  it.  All  right  and 
accurate — away,  Gabriel,  quickly.  When  you  have 
passed  the  castle,  then  make  speed  :  till  then,  act  like 
a  composed  philanthropist.  I  will  allow  you  to  whistle 
my  Dessauer,  if  you  can.  If  they  ask  you  any  questions, 
say  you  are  attending  to  some  business  for  me." 

Gabriel  hastened  away.  Mr.  Hummel  placed  his 
chair  in  front  of  Use,  and  looked  at  his  watch. 

"You  will  have  to  wait  five  hours  for  the  carriage 
if  all  goes  right.  Meanwhile  you  must  bear  my  com- 
pany, I  will  not  leave  the  house  without  you.  Do  not 
be  troubled  at  the  delay.  I  am  glad  of  it ;  for  I  wish 
to  speak  with  you  as  with  an  honorable  woman,  to 
whom  I  can  take  off  my  hat  with  true  respect,  con- 
cerning my  own  affairs,  which  I  have  much  at  heart. 
We  have  time  enough  for  it.  I  have  also  brought 
some  papers  to  the  Professor ;  they  are  of  little  im- 
portance, but  I  will  lay  them  on  the  table,  and  we 
shall  sit  oposite  each  other  like  people  of  business. 
Then  I  should  be  glad  if  you  would  give  that  Judas  in 


ILSE'S  FLIGHT.  395 

the  servants'  chamber  a  few  instructions  for  me. 
Have  the  goodness  also  to  take  everything  away  that 
might  lead  him  to  suppose  that  you  and  I  were  going 
to  elope." 

Use  looked  round  her,  undecided. 

"What  shall  I  say  to  the  man,  Mr.  Hummel?  " 

"You  are  so  good  a  housewife,"  replied  Hummel, 
politely,  "that  I  can  leave  entirely  to  you  to  decide 
what  you  will  provide  for  me.  I  have  been  travelling 
the  whole  day,"  and  he  made  a  significant  gesture 
towards  his  waistcoat. 

"Use  jumped  up  ;  in  spite  of  all  her  anxieties,  she 
could  not  help  laughing,  and  said  : 

"  Forgive  me,  Mr.   Hummel." 

"That  is  the  right  frame  of  mind,"  replied  Hum- 
mel ;  "there  is  no  better  remedy  for  tragic  spirits 
than  a  well  spread  table.  I  beg,  therefore  that  you  will 
send  not  only  for  one  plate,  but  for  two.  I  could  not 
eat  if  you  were  looking  on.  Believe  me,  Mrs.  Werner, 
the  noblest  feelings  are  not  to  be  depended  on  if  an 
honest  piece  of  bread  and  butter  is  not  impressed  on 
them  as  a  stamp.  It  makes  people  calm  and  firm — 
and  you  will  have  occasion  for  these  virtues  to-day." 

Use  rang  the  bell. 

"  If  the  knave  appears, "  proceeded  Mr.  Hummel, 
"mention  to  him  my  name  and  my  firm.  I  do  not 
generally  travel  incognito,  and  I  wish  not  to  be  looked 
upon  as  a  mystery  here." 

The  lackey  appeared.  Use  gave  him  orders  to 
fetch  the  necessary  refreshment,  and  asked  him  how 
it  was  he  had  denied  her  dear  landlord  admit- 
tance. 

The  man  stammered  an  excuse,  and  went  away 
hastily. 


396  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

"When  I  came  to  the  house  I  was  aware  that  all 
was  not  right  here.  I  asked  after  you  at  the  castle 
and  received  no  satisfactory  answer.  I  asked  a  man 
at  the  back  of  the  castle  who  was  wandering  about, 
which  was  your  house.  He  looked  at  me  like  a  cross- 
bill. You  were  travelling,  he  declared,  and  he  tried 
to  discover  my  secret.  Thereupon  there  was  a  short 
conversation,  in  which  cross-bill  showed  his  spite  be- 
cause I  in  ignorance  called  him  by  his  proper  title  of 
spy.  The  sentinel  came  up  at  this,  and  I  saw  that 
these  jovial  comrades  had  a  great  mind  to  arrest  me. 
Then  a  young  gentleman  appeared,  who  asked  the 
other  the  cause  of  the  disturbance,  and  said  he 
knew  that  you  were  at  home.  He  accompanied  me 
up  to  this  house,  asked  my  name  politely,  told  me  also 
his  own,  Lieutenant  Treeclimber,  and  advised  me  not 
to  be  frightened  away,  that  the  servants  were  insolent, 
but  that  you  would  be  rejoiced  to  see  an  old  friend. 
He  must  be  known  to  you." 

The  lackey  laid  the  table.  Whenever  he  offered 
Mr.  Hummel  a  dish,  the  latter  gave  him  a  withering 
look,  and  did  not  endeavor  to  make  his  office  easy 
to  him.  While  the  servant  was  removing  the  things, 
Mr.  Hummel  began  : 

"Now  permit  me  to  talk  of  our  affairs,  it  will  be 
a  long  account ;  have  you  patience  for  it?" 

The  evening  had  set  in,  darkness  lay  over  the 
dismal  house,  the  storm  came  on,  the  windows  rattled, 
and  the  rain  poured  down.  Use  sat  as  in  a  dream. 
In  the  midst  of  the  stormy  scenes  of  the  past  day  and 
the  uneasy  expectation  of  a  wild  night,  the  comfortable 
prose  of  the  Park  Street  rose  before  her,  where,  fearless 
and  secure,  she  was  at  peace  with  herself  and  the  world, 
— so  far  as  the  world  was  not  vexatious.  But  she  felt 


ILSE'S  FLIGHT.  397 

how  beneficial  this  contrast  was ;  she  even  forgot  her 
own  position,  and  listened  with  deep  sympathy  to  the 
account  of  the  father. 

"  I  am  speaking  to  a  daughter,"  said  Mr.  Hummel, 
"who  is  going  back  to  her  father,  and  I  tell  her  what 
I  have  said  to  no  one  else  :  how  hard  it  is  to  bear  my 
child's  wish  to  leave  me." 

He  spoke  about  the  child  whom  they  both  loved, 
and  it  was  pleasant  intercourse  between  them.  Thus 
several  hours  passed. 

The  lackey  came  again,  and  asked  respectfully 
whether  Mrs.  Werner  had  sent  Gabriel  away. 

"He  has  gone  upon  a  commission  for  me,"  grum- 
bled Mr.  Hummel,  to  the  inquirer;  "he  is  looking 
after  some  money  matters  with  which  I  did  not  choose 
to  burden  your  honesty.  If  any  one  inquires  from  the 
city  for  me,  I  must  beg,  Mrs.  Werner,  to  request  this 
man  to  say  that  I  am  at  home." 

He  again  looked  at  his  watch. 

"Four  hours,"  he  said.  "If  the  horse  was  good, 
and  Gabriel  did  not  lose  his  way  in  the  dark,  we  may 
expect  him  every  moment.  If  he  has  not  succeeded, 
you  may  still  be  without  anxiety ;  I  will  still  take  you 
from  this  house." 

The  bell  below  rang,  and  the  house  door  opened — 
Gabriel  entered.  There  was  a  gleam  of  pleasure  in 
his  countenance. 

"Promptly,  at  ten,  the  carriage  will  stop  before 
the  inn,"  he  said,  cautiously;  "I  have  ridden  hastily 
in  advance." 

Use  jumped  up.  Again  the  terrors  of  the  day  and 
anxiety  for  the  future  passed  through  her  mind. 

"Sit  still,"  admonished  Mr.  Hummelagain;  "  vio- 


398  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

lent  moving  about  is  suspicious.  I  will  meanwhile 
hold  council  once  more  with  Gabriel." 

This  council  lasted  a  long  time.  At  last  Mr.  Hum- 
mel came  back,  and  said,  very  seriously : 

"  Now,  Mrs.  Werner,  prepare  yourself;  we  have  a 
quarter  of  an  hour's  walk.  Yield  yourself  quietly  to 
our  guidance;  all  has  been  carefully  considered." 

Mr.  Hummel  rang.  Gabriel,  who  had  returned 
to  the  spy  on  the  ground  floor,  entered  as  usual,  and 
took  several  keys  and  a  screw-driver  out  of  his  pocket, 
and  said,  cautiously : 

"The  first  week  we  were  here  I  closed  the  small 
back  staircase  and  secured  the  door  with  a  large  screw ; 
the  people  do  not  know  that  I  have  the  keys." 

He  went  to  one  of  the  back  rooms  and  opened  the 
entrance  to  a  secret  staircase.  Mr.  Hummel  glided 
after  him. 

' '  I  wished  to  know  how  I  was  to  let  myself  in  again, " 
he  said,  returning  to  Use.  "When  I  have  taken  you 
away  some  one  must  be  heard  moving  about  here  as 
your  spirit,  otherwise  all  the  trouble  would  be  lost. 
Gabriel  will  take  you  down  the  back  staircase,  while 
I  go  out  at  the  front  door  and  keep  the  lackey  in  con- 
versation. I  will  meet  you  a  short  distance  from  the 
house  among  the  bushes  ;  Gabriel  will  bring  you  to 
me,  and  I  will  be  sure  to  be  there." 

Use  pressed  his  hand  anxiously. 

"I  hope  all  will  go  well,"  said  Mr.  Hummel, 
cautiously.  "  Take  care  to  have  a  cloak  that  will  dis- 
guise you  as  much  as  possible." 

Use  flew  to  her  writing-table  and  in  haste  wrote 
these  words  : 

"Farewell,  beloved;  I  am  gone  to  my  father." 

Again  sorrow  overpowered  her  ;   she   wrung  her 


ILSE'S  FLIGHT.  399 

hands  and  wept.  Mr.  Hummel  stood  respectfully 
aside.  At  last  he  laid  his  hand  on  her  shoulder  :  "The 
time  is  passing  away." 

Use  jumped  up,  enclosed  the  note  in  an  envelope, 
gave  it  to  Gabriel,  and  quickly  veiled  herself. 

"  Now  forward,"  admonished  Mr.  Hummel,  "out  of 
both  doors.  I  go  first.  Good  bye,  Mrs.  Werner,  "he  called 
out,  through  the  open  door ;  "  I  hope  you  will  rest  well. " 

He  stepped  heavily  down  the  stairs,  the  lackey 
was  standing  on  the  last  step. 

"Come  here,  young  man,"  shouted  Mr.  Hummel, 
"I  wish  to  have  you  stuffed  after  your  death,  and 
placed  before  the  council  house  as  a  model  for  later 
generations  of  the  love  of  truth.  When  I  return  you 
may  depend  upon  it  I  shall  again  give  myself  the 
pleasure  of  expressing  my  high  opinion  of  you  ;  then 
I  will  reveal  to  the  Professor  the  consummate  meanness 
of  your  character.  I  have  a  great  mind  to  make  your 
worthlessness  known  in  the  daily  paper  in  order  that 
you  may  become  a  scare-crow  to  the  world." 

The  servant  listened  with  downcast  eyes,  and  bowed 
mockingly. 

"  Good-night,  courtling, "  said  Mr.  Hummel,  going 
out  and  closing  the  door  behind  him. 

Mr.  Hummel  walked  with  measured  tread  from 
the  house,  turning  to  the  left  side  where  a  path  entered 
a  thicket ;  there  he  concealed  himself.  The  rain  poured, 
and  the  wind  roared  in  the  tops  of  the  trees.  Mr. 
Hummel  looked  cautiously  about  him  when  he  entered 
the  darkness  of  the  spot  where  Gabriel  and  Prince 
Victor  had  once  spoken  to  one  another  of  the  ghosts 
of  the  castle.  There  was  a  slight  stir  in  the  thicket, 
a  tall  figure  approached  him  and  seized  his  arm. 

"Good,"   said  Mr.  Hummel,  in  alow  tone;   "go 


400  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

back  quickly,  Gabriel,  and  expect  me  in  time.  But 
we  must  seek  out  dark  paths  and  avoid  the  lights ; 
you  must  conceal  your  face  under  your  veil  when  we 
come  into  the  open." 

Use  took  the  arm  of  her  landlord  and  walked  along, 
covered  by  the  great  umbrella  which  Mr.  Hummel 
held  over  her. 

Behind  the  fugitives  the  tower  clock  struck  ten, 
when  the  outline  of  the  inn  outside  the  gate  was  seen 
against  the  darkened  heaven. 

"We  must  not  be  too  early  nor  too  late,"  said  Mr. 
Hummel,  restraining  the  steps  of  his  eager  companion. 
At  the  same  moment  a  carriage  came  slowly  towards 
them  out  of  the  darkness.  Use's  arm  trembled.  "Be 
calm,"  begged  Mr.  Hummel;  "see  whether  that  is 
your  friend." 

"I  recognize  the  horses,"  whispered  Use,  breath- 
less. Mr.  Hummel  approached  the  coachman's  covered 
seat,  and  asked,  as  a  password,  "  From  Toad  ?  " 

"Ville,"  answered  a  firm  voice.  The  Crown  In- 
spector sprang  down  to  Use  ;  there  was  a  little  move- 
ment in  the  carriage,  the  corner  of  the  leather  curtain 
was  lifted,  and  a  small  hand  was  put  out.  Hummel 
seized  and  shook  it.  "An  agreeable  addition,"  he 
said.  Without  speaking  a  word,  the  Crown  Inspector 
unbuttoned  the  leather  curtain.  "My  dear  friend," 
cried  a  trembling  female  voice  from  within.  Use 
turned  to  Mr.  Hummel ;  "  not  a  word,"  he  said  ;  "a 
pleasant  journey  to  you."  Use  was  pushed  in  ;  Mrs. 
Rollmaus  seized  hold  of  her  arm,  and  held  it  firmly ; 
and  while  the  Crown  Inspector  was  again  buttoning 
the  curtain,  Mr.  Hummel  greeted  him.  "  It  gives  me 
great  pleasure,"  he  said,  "but  for  an  exchange  of  cards 
this  is  not  a  favorable  opportunity.  Besides  which, 


ILSE'S  FLIGHT.  401 

our  classes,  according  to  natural  history,  are  not  the 
same.  But  punctuality  at  the  right  time  and  good- 
will were  mutual."  The  Crown  Inspector  jumped 
upon  the  coachman's  box  and  seized  the  reins.  He 
turned  the  carriage,  Mr.  Hummel  gave  a  farewell  tap 
upon  the  wet  leather  curtain,  the  horses  trotted  off 
quietly,  and  the  carriage  passed  into  the  darkness. 

Hummel  looked  after  it  till  the  heavy  rain  concealed 
it  from  his  view,  cast  one  more  searching  glance  down 
the  now  empty  road,  and  hastened  back  to  the  city. 
He  went  to  the  Pavilion  through  the  most  remote  part 
of  the  grounds ;  at  the  spot  where  Gabriel  had  put  the 
lady  under  his  charge,  he  dived  into  the  deep  shade  of 
the  trees,  and  made  his  way  cautiously  through  the 
wet  bushes  to  the  back  of  the  house.  He  felt  along 
the  wall.  "Stop  on  the  threshold,"  whispered  Ga- 
briel ;  "  I  will  take  off  your  boots." 

"  Cannot  I  be  spared  this  court  toilet  ?  "  grumbled 
Hummel.  "  Stocking-feet  are  contrary  to  my  nature. " 

"All  will  have  been  in  vain  if  you  are  heard  on  the 
staircase." 

Hummel  slipped  up  the  stairs  behind  Gabriel  into 
the  dark  room.  "  Here  are  Mrs.  Werner's  rooms. 
You  must  move  backwards  and  forwards  in  the  dark, 
and  sometimes  move  the  chairs,  till  I  call  you.  There 
is  now  another  spy,  they  are  talking  together  below. 
I  fear  they  suspect  that  we  have  something  on  hand. 
They  look  at  me  askance.  The  lackey  every  day  car- 
ries the  lamps  from  the  sitting-room,  and  nothing  must 
be  altered ;  it  would  create  suspicion  if  he  did  not  hear 
some  one  moving  about  in  the  next  room.  When  all 
is  quiet,  then  the  lackey  leaves  the  house,  and  we  can 
speak  to  one  another." 

"It  is  against  my  conscience,  Gabriel,"  murmured 


402  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

Hummel,  to  remain  in  a  strange  house  without  the 
permission  of  the  owner  or  lodger." 

"Quiet,"  warned  Gabriel,  anxiously;  I  hear  the 
man  on  the  stairs ;  close  the  door  behind  me." 

Mr.  Hummel  stood  alone  in  the  dark.  He  placed 
his  boots  near  the  arm-chair,  walked  around  them,  and 
sometimes  gave  them  a  push.  "  Very  gently  always," 
he  thought,  "for  they  are  the  movements  of  a  Pro- 
fessor's wife.  The  demands  which  now-a-days  are 
made  on  a  householder  exceed  all  imagination.  An 
elopement  from  the  house  of  a  stranger,  and  acting 
the  part  of  a  lady  in  the  darkness  of  night."  The 
steps  of  men  were  heard  outside,  and  he  again  pushed 
his  boots.  "Darkness  in  a  strange  house  is  by  no 
means  desirable,"  he  continued,  to  himself.  "I  have 
always  had  a  hatred  of  a  dark  room  since  I  once  fell 
down  into  a  cellar ;  this  gloom  is  only  good  for  cats 
and  rogues.  But  the  most  lamentable  thing  for  a 
citizen  is,  that  his  boots  should  be  withheld  from 
him."  He  heard  a  light  tread  in  the  next  room,  and 
again  moved  the  chair. 

At  last  all  became  quiet  in  the  house.  Mr.  Hum- 
mel threw  himself  back  in  the  chair,  and  looked  wearily 
around  the  strange  room.  A  pale  ray  of  light  fell  from 
without  through  a  crevice  of  the  curtains,  and  the 
tassel  of  the  curtain  and  the  gilded  top  of  a  chair 
glimmered  in  the  darkness.  Now  at  last  Mr.  Hummel 
might  put  on  his  boots,  and  then  for  a  time  he  occupied 
himself  with  severe  comments  upon  the  world.  His 
usual  hour  for  rest  had  meanwhile  come,  and  he  was 
tired  from  his  journey ;  he  sank  gradually  into  a 
dreamy  state,  and  his  last  distinct  thought  was,  "there 
must  be  no  snoring  in  this  princely  darkness."  With 


ILSE'S  FLIGHT.  403 

this  intention  he  closed  his  eyes,  and  said  farewell  to 
the  cares  of  the  world. 

In  his  sleep  it  appeared  to  him  as  if  he  heard  a 
slight  noise ;  he  opened  his  eyes  and  looked  about  the 
room.  He  saw  indistinctly  that  the  wall  looked  dif- 
ferent from  what  it  had  done.  The  large  mirror 
that  before  stood  there,  seemed  to  have  vanished, 
and  it  appeared  to  him  as  if  a  veiled  figure  stood  in 
its  place  and  moved.  He  was  a  courageous  man,  but 
his  limbs  now  trembled  with  terror.  He  barricaded 
himself  behind  a  chair.  "Is  this  a  magic  lantern?" 
he  began,  with  stammering  voice;  "if  so,  I  beg  you 
not  to  disturb  yourself  ;  I  admire  your  skill,  but  have  not 
my  purse  with  me.  But  if  you  are  a  man,  I  should 
like  a  more  distinct  knowledge  of  the  fact.  I  call  upon 
you  to  show  yourself  in  substance.  I  have  the  honor 
of  introducing  myself  to  you  in  this  scanty  light.  Hat- 
manufacturer,  Henry  Hummel ;  my  papers  are  correct 
— a  passport  to  Paris."  He  put  his  hand  into  his 
breast  pocket.  "As  a  respectable  citizen  is  bound  to 
defend  himself  in  these  dangerous  times,  it  has  been 
inserted  in  my  passport,  avec  un  pistolet.  I  beg  you 
kindly  to  bear  this  in  mind."  He  took  out  a  pocket 
pistol  and  held  it  before  him.  He  again  looked  at  the 
spot ;  nothing  was  to  be  seen ;  the  mirror  stood  as  be- 
fore. He  rubbed  his  eyes.  "Stupid  stuff,"  he  said; 
"it  was,  after  all,  only  a  sleepy  fancy." 

The  door  of  the  house  was  closed  outside.  For  a 
while  Mr.  Hummel  stood  looking  round  suspiciously, 
and  perspiration  rose  on  his  brow.  At  last  he  heard 
Gabriel's  knock  at  the  door  ;  he  opened  it,  took  the  light 
quickly  from  his  hand,  and  approached  the  mirror  so 
as  to  throw  the  light  upon  the  frame  and  wall. 


404  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

"It  seems  to  stand  firm  as  iron,"  he  said  to 
himself;  "it  was  only  a  deception." 

But  he  hastily  seized  his  hat,  and  took  the  servant 
out  of  the  room. 

"  I  have  had  enough  for  to-day,"  he  muttered  ;  "  I 
wish  to  get  out  of  this  house  as  quickly  as  possible.  I 
do  not  like  to  have  you  remain  here  alone,  Gabriel. 
Early  to-morrow  I  will  call  for  you;  I  have  business 
for  the  whole  day  in  the  city.  Endeavor  to  sleep  ; 
in  our  beds  we  shall  both  think  of  this  intrigue  and 
of  her  who  is  still  seeking  a  secure  roof  for  protection 
from  night-storms  and  spirits. " 

Use  traveled  through  the  night ;  the  rain  poured 
in  torrents  around  her,  the  storm  howled  through  the 
trees,  and  the  water  splashed  high  from  the  ruts  about 
the  horses  and  carriage.  It  was  only  between  the 
figures  of  the  men  on  the  front  seat  that  she  caught 
glimpses  of  the  midnight  sky,  which  hung  heavy  and 
dark  above  the  fugitives.  Sometimes  a  glimmer  of 
light  twinkled  from  the  window  of  a  house,  and  then 
again  there  was  nothing  but  rain,  storm,  and  black 
night.  She  maintained  a  terrified  silence  during  the 
ghostly  journey,  Mrs.  Rollmaus  still  clasping  her  hand. 
Use  was  driving  into  the  world,  a  storm-lashed  world, 
poor  in  light  and  rich  in  tears.  There  was  uncertainty 
and  fearful  anxiety  everywhere,  whether  she  thought 
of  the  loved  one  wThom  she  left  behind  her  in  the  hands 
of  the  persecutor,  or  saw  before  her  the  troubled 
countenance  of  her  father,  and  the  fields  of  the  estate 
where  the  young  man  dwelt  whose  neighborhood 
now  threatened  her  with  new  trouble ;  but  she  sat 
erect. 

"  When  he  returns  to  the  door  over  which  the  dark 
angel  hovers,  he  will  ask  in  vain  for  his  wife.  But  I 


THE    LORD    HIGH    STEWARD.  405 

have  done  what  I  had  to  do  :  may  the  sovereign  Lord 
of  life  watch  over  me." 

There  was  the  sound  of  a  horse's  hoofs  behind  the 
carriage;  it  approached  nearer.  Where  the  private  road 
to  the  estate  branched  off  from  the  highway,  a  cavalier 
galloped  up  on  a  foaming  horse  ;  he  spoke  to  some 
one  on  the  coachman's  seat,  the  carriage  and  rider 
rushed  forward  side  by  side  for  a  few  moments,  then 
the  rider  reined  in  his  horse.  The  Crown  Inspector 
threw  a  branch  of  a  tree  into  the  carriage. 

"The  rider  has  brought  this  for  Lady  Use;  it  is 
from  the  tree  under  her  window,  and  the  reckoning  is 
paid." 

CHAPTER  XXXVII. 
THE  LORD  HIGH   STEWARD. 

AT  the  same  hour  in  which  Use  was  listening 
to  the  comforting  words  of  her  landlord,  the  carriage 
of  the  Lord  High  Steward  was  driving  to  the  tower 
castle  of  the  Princess.  The  Princess  received  the  an- 
nouncement with  astonishment,  and  flew  down  to  her 
reception-room.  The  Professor  caused  the  chest  with 
its  contents  to  be  taken  to  his  room,  and  was  in  the 
act  of  bending  over  the  manuscript,  when  the  High 
Marshal  entered  below  to  deliver  himself  of  his  com- 
mission. Meanwhile  the  Princess  awaited  the  old  gen- 
tleman. 

The  Lord  High  Steward  had  been  appointed  to 
the  honorable  office  of  attendance  upon  the  Princess  : 
it  was  a  considerate  way  of  removing  him  from  the 
person  of  the  Sovereign.  At  the  same  hour  every  morn- 
ing his  carriage  was  to  be  seen  standing  before  the 
wing  of  the  castle  which  was  occupied  by  the  Princess. 


406  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

His  personal  relations  to  the  young  Princess  appeared 
cool ;  in  Court  society  he  was  treated  by  her  with  just 
as  much  distinction  as  was  needful,  and  petitioners 
learnt  sometimes  that  their  requests  were  imparted  to 
him.  He  was  esteemed  by  the  citizens  on  account  of 
his  benevolence,  and  was  the  only  one  of  the  lords  of 
the  Court  concerning  whom  one  never  heard  an  unfa- 
vorable opinion.  He  dwelt  in  an  old-fashioned  house 
surrounded  by  gardens,  was  unmarried,  rich,  without 
relations,  and  lived  quietly  by  himself.  He  was,  it  was 
supposed,  without  influence  ;  he  was  not  in  favor,  and 
was  therefore  treated  by  the  young  cavaliers  with  chiv- 
alrous condescension.  He  was,  notwithstanding  all 
this,  indispensable  to  the  Sovereign  and  the  Court. 
He  was  the  great  dignitary  who  was  necessary  for  all 
ceremonious  affairs  ;  he  was  counsellor  in  all  family 
matters ;  he  was  ambassador  and  escort  in  all  transac- 
tions with  foreign  powers.  He  was  well  known  at  most 
of  the  courts  of  Europe,  had  acquaintances  in  the  great 
diplomatic  bodies,  and  enjoyed  the  special  favor  of 
various  rulers  whose  good  will  was  of  importance  to 
the  Sovereign ;  and  as  in  our  courts  the  reputation  that 
one  enjoys  at  foreign  capitals  is  the  standard  of  the 
judgment  of  the  palace,  the  correspondence  which  he 
carried  on  with  political  leaders  in  foreign  countries, 
and  the  abundance  of  broad  ribbons  of  which  he  had 
the  choice,  gave  him  with  the  Sovereign  himself  an 
authority  which  was  at  the  same  time  burdensome 
and  valuable ;  he  was  the  secret  counsellor  for  the 
Court  and  the  last  resource  in  difficult  questions. 

The  servant  opened  the  door  of  the  Princess's 
room  with  a  profound  bow  to  the  old  gentleman.  In- 
different questions  and  answers  were  exchanged,  the 
Princess  entered  the  adjoining  room  and  intimated  to 


THE    LORD    HIGH    STEWARD.  407 

her  faithful  lady-in-waiting  by  a  sign  that  she  was  to 
keep  watch  in  front.  When  the  conversation  was  se- 
cure from  the  ear  of  any  listener,  the  demeanor  of  the 
Princess  altered,  she  hastened  up  to  the  old  gentleman, 
seized  him  by  the  hand,  and  looked  inquiringly  at  his 
earnest  countenance  : 

"Has  anything  happened?  No  trifle  could  have 
caused  you  to  take  the  trouble  of  coming  into  this  wil- 
derness. What  have  you  to  say  to  your  little  daugh- 
ter,— is  it  praise  qr  blame?  " 

"I  am  but  fulfilling  my  duty,"  replied  the  old  lord, 
"  if  I  make  my  appearance  in  order  to  take  your  High- 
ness's  commands,  and  to  ascertain  whether  the  resi- 
dence of  my  gracious  Princess  is  suitably  arranged." 

"Your  Excellency  has  come  to  complain,"  ex- 
claimed the  Princess,  drawing  back,  "for  you  have 
not  one  kind  word  for  your  little  woman." 

The  High  Steward  bowed  his  white  head  in  apology  : 

"  If  I  appear  more  serious  than  usual  to  your  High- 
ness, it  is  perhaps  only  the  fancies  of  an  old  man  which 
have  intruded  themselves  at  an  unseasonable  time.  I 
beg  permission  to  relieve  myself  of  them  by  discussing 
them  with  your  Highness.  The  health  of  the  Sov- 
ereign is  a  cause  of  anxiety  to  us  all :  it  reminds  us  of 
the  transitory  nature  of  life.  Even  the  good  humor 
of  Prince  Victor  does  not  succeed  in  dissipating  my 
troubled  thoughts." 

"  How  does  my  cousin  ?  "  asked  the  Princess. 

"He  overcomes  the  difficulties  of  being  a  Prince 
in  a  wonderful  way,"  replied  the  High  Steward;  but 
he  is  sound  to  the  core  ;  he  knows  very  well  how  to  man- 
age serious  things  cleverly.  I  rejoice, "  added  the  court- 
ier, "that  my  gracious  Princess  feels  warmly  towards  a 
cousin  who  is  faithfully  devoted  to  her  Highness." 


408  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

"He  has  always  been  true  and  kind  to  me,"  said 
the  Princess,  indifferently.  "  But  now  you  have  pun- 
ished me  severely  enough.  What  you  have  to  say 
to  me  confidentially  must  not  be  carried  on  in  this  way. " 

She  took  a  chair,  and  pushed  it  into  the  middle  of 
the  room. 

"  Here,  sit  down,  my  worthy  lord,  and  allow  me 
to  hold  the  hand  of  my  friend  when  he  tells  me  what 
makes  him  anxious  on  my  account." 

She  fetched  herself  a  low  tabouret,  held  the  right 
hand  of  the  old  lord  between  hers,  looking  earnestly 
into  his  eyes. 

"Your  Highness  knows  the  way  of  giving  me  cour- 
age to  make  bold  requests,"  said  the  courtier,  laughing. 

"That  is  more  to  the  purpose,"  said  the  Princess, 
relieved  ;  "I  now  hear  the  voice  and  hold  the  hand 
of  him  in  whom  I  most  love  to  trust." 

"But  I  wish  for  your  Highness  a  nearer  and 
stronger  support  than  myself,"  began  the  old  lord, 
earnestly. 

The  Princess  started. 

"  So  it  was  that  which  occasioned  your  Excellency's 
journey  ?  "  she  exclaimed,  with  agitation. 

"That  was  the  anxiety  which  occupied  me.  It  is 
nothing — nothing  more  than  an  idea,"  said  the  High 
Steward,  inclining  his  head. 

"And  is  that  to  tranquilize  me  more?"  asked  the 
Princess.  "What  has  hitherto  given  me  the  power  to 
live  but  your  Excellency's  ideas?" 

"When  your  Highness,  while  still  in  widow's 
weeds,  was  called  home,  the  wish  of  the  Sovereign, 
making  it  a  duty  to  attend  upon  you,  was  welcome 
to  me  ;  because  I  thereby  obtained  the  right  of  carry- 
ing on  this  conversation  with  your  Highness." 


THE    LORD    HIGH    STEWARD.  409 

He  motioned  with  his  hand  to  the  seat,  and  the 
Princess  again  hastened  to  place  herself  by  his  side. 

"  Now  when  I  see  your  Highness  before  me  in  the 
bright  bloom  of  youth,  richly  gifted  and  fitted  to  con- 
fer the  greatest  happiness  on  others  and  to  partake  of 
it  yourself,  I  cannot  forbear  thinking  that  it  is  wrong 
for  you  to  be  debarred  from  the  pleasures  of  home." 

"I  have  enjoyed  this  happiness  and  have  lost  it," 
exclaimed  the  Princess.  "Now  I  have  accustomed 
myself  to  the  thought  of  renouncing  much.  I  seek  for 
myself  a  compensation  which  even  you  will  not  consider 
unworthy." 

"There  is  a  difference  between  us  of  more  than 
fifty  years.  A  mode  of  life,  proper  for  me,  an  unim- 
portant man,  may  not  be  permitted  the  daughter 
of  a  princely  house.  I  beg  the  permission  of  my  be- 
loved Princess,"  he  continued,  with  a  gentle  voice,  to 
draw  aside  to-day  the  curtain  which  has  covered  a 
dark  image  of  your  early  youth.  You  were  witness  of 
the  scene  which  separated  the  Sovereign  from  your 
illustrious  mother." 

"  It  is  a  dark  recollection,"  whispered  the  Princess, 
looking  up  anxiously  at  the  old  lord  ;  "my  mother 
was  reproaching  the  Sovereign, — it  was  something 
concerning  the  fateful  Pavilion.  The  Sovereign  got  into 
a  state  of  excitement  that  was  fearful.  I,  then  but  a  lit- 
tle girl,  ran  up  and  embraced  the  knees  of  my  mother; 
he  dragged  me  off,  and — "  the  Princess  covered  her 
eyes.  The  old  lord  made  a  motion  to  stop  her,  and 
continued  : 

"  The  after-effect  of  the  scene  was  ruinous  to  the 
life  of  a  noble  woman,  and  also  to  that  of  yourself. 
Then  for  the  first  time  the  diseased  irritability  which 
has  since  darkened  the  Sovereign's  spirit  displayed 


410  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

itself  ;  from  that  day  the  Sovereign  sees  in  you  the 
living  witness  of  his  guilt  and  his  disease.  He  has  for 
years  endeavored  to  wipe  away  from  you  that  impres- 
sion by  kindness  and  attentions,  but  he  has  never  be- 
lieved himself  to  be  successful.  Shame,  suspicion, 
and  fear  have  continually  ruined  his  relations  with  you. 
He  will  not  let  you  go  away  from  him,  because  he 
fears  that  in  your  confidence  to  another  man  you  might 
betray  what  he  would  fain  conceal  from  himself.  He 
unwillingly  gave  in  to  the  first  marriage,  and  he  will 
oppose  a  second,  for  he  does  not  wish  to  see  your 
Highness  married  again.  But  in  the  hours  when  dark 
clouds  lie  over  his  extraordinary  spirit,  he  rejoices  in 
the  thought  that  your  Highness  might  lose  the  right 
of  secretly  reproaching  him.  The  thought  that  he  did 
an  injury  to  the  princely  dignity  of  his  wife  gnaws 
within  him,  and  he  is  now  occupied  with  the  idea  that 
your  Highness  might  under  certain  circumstances 
forget  your  position  as  princess." 

"He  hopes  in  vain, "  exclaimed  the  Princess,  ex- 
citedty.  "Never  will  I  allow  .myself  to  be  degraded 
by  an  unworthy  passion  ;  it  has  not  been  without  effect 
that  I  have  been  the  child  of  your  cares." 

"What  is  unworthy  of  a  princess?  "  asked  the  High 
Steward,  reflectively.  "That  your  Highness  would 
keep  yourself  free  from  the  little  passions  which  are 
excited  in  the  quadrille  of  a  masked  ball  there  can  be 
no  doubt.  But  intellectual  pastime  with  subjects  of 
great  interest  might  also  disturb  the  life  of  a  woman. 
Easily  does  the  most  refined  intellectual  enjoyment 
pass  into  extravagance.  More  than  once  has  the  great- 
est danger  of  a  woman  been  when  under  powerful  ex- 
ternal excitement,  she  has  felt  herself  to  be  higher, 
freer,  nobler  than  her  wont.  It  is  difficult  to  listen  to 


THE    LORD    HIGH    STEWARD.  411 

entrancing  music  and  to  preserve  oneself  from  a  warm 
interest  in  the  artist  who  has  produced  it  for  us." 

The  Princess  looked  down. 

"  Supposing  the  case, "  continued  the  High  Steward, 
"in  which  a  diseased  man,  in  bitter  humor,  should 
meditate  and  work  for  such  an  object,  the  sound  person 
should  guard  himself  from  doing  his  will." 

"But  they  should  also  not  allow  themselves  to  be 
disturbed  in  what  they  consider  for  the  honor  and 
advantage  of  their  life  ?  "  cried  the  Princess,  looking 
up  at  the  old  man. 

"  Certainly  not, "  replied  the  latter,  "  if  such  benefits 
are  in  fact  to  be  gained  by  the  playful  devotion  of  a 
woman  to  art  or  learning.  It  would  be  difficult  for  a 
princess  to  find  satisfaction  in  this  way.  No  one 
blames  a  woman  of  the  people  when  she  makes  a  great 
talent  the  vocation  of  her  life;  she  may  satisfy  herself 
as  singer  or  painter  and  please  others,  and  the  whole 
world  will  smile  upon  her.  But  if  my  gracious  Prin- 
cess should  employ  her  rich  musical  talent  in 
giving  a  public  concert,  why  would  men  shrug  their 
shoulders  at  it  ?  Not  because  your  Highness's  talent 
is  less  than  that  of  another  artist,  but  because  one  ex- 
pects other  objects  in  your  life ;  the  nation  forms  very 
distinct  ideal  demands  of  its  princes.  If,  unfortunately, 
the  ruling  princes  of  our  time  do  not  find  it  easy  to 
answer  to  this  ideal,  yet  to  the  ladies  of  these  illustrious 
families  the  serious  tendency  of  the  present  day  makes 
this  more  possible  than  in  my  youth.  A  princess  of 
our  people  ought  to  be  the  noble  model  of  a  good 
housewife, — nothing  more  and  nothing  else  :  true  and 
right-minded,  firmly  attached  to  her  husband,  careful 
in  her  daily  duties,  warm  hearted  to  the  needy,  kind 
and  sympathizing  to  all  who  have  the  privilege  of 


412  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

approaching  her.  If  she  has  intellect,  she  must  be- 
ware of  wishing  to  shine ;  if  she  has  a  talent  for 
businsss,  she  must  guard  herself  from  becoming  an 
intrigante.  Even  the  great  social  talent  of  virtuoso- 
ship  she  must  exercise  with  the  greatest  discretion. 
A  well-weighed  balance  of  female  excellence  is  the  best 
ornament  of  a  princess ;  her  highest  honor,  that  she 
is  better  and  more  lovable  than  others,  without  pa- 
rading it,  with  goodness  and  capacity  in  everything, 
and  with  no  pretensions  of  any  kind.  For  she  stands 
too  high  to  seek  conquest  and  acquisition  for  herself." 

The  Princess  sat  near  the  speaker,  her  head  sup- 
ported on  her  arm,  looking  sorrowfully  before  her. 

"My  beloved  Princess  does  not  hear  me  speak  in 
this  way  for  the  first  time,"  continued  the  Lord  High 
Steward.  "I  have  often  felt  anxious  about  the  dangers 
which  a  high-flown  spirit  and  active  fancy  prepare  for 
you,  the  cradle  gift  of  an  envious  fairy,  who  has  made 
your  Highness  too  brilliant  and  attractive.  It  is  owing 
to  these  brilliant  gifts  that  you  have  not  the  same  aris- 
tocratic nature  as  your  illustrious  brother,  the  Heredit- 
ary Prince.  There  is  too  lively  a  desire  in  you  to  make 
yourself  appreciated,  and  to  influence  others.  One 
can  leave  your  brother  with  full  confidence  to  his 
own  good  nature.  Every  attempt  to  persuade  the  soul 
of  the  much-tormented  child  has  come  to  naught.  But 
you,  that  delicate  artistic  work  of  nature  which  now 
gazes  at  me  with  those  open  eyes,  I  have  endeavored 
constantly  to  guard  from  an  over-refined  coquetry 
of  sentiment.  I  am  now  the  severe  admonisher  to  high 
duties,  because  I  anticipate  the  dangers  which  this  love 
of  conquest  in  your  soul  will  bring  upon  yourself  and 
others." 

"I  hear  a  severe  reproof  in  loving  words,"  replied 


THE    LORD    HIGH    STEWARD.  413 

the  Princess,  with  composure.  "  I  should  marry  again 
in  order  to  become  distinguished. " 

"My  dear  Highness,  I  wish  that  you  may  obtain 
this  great  aim  as  the  wife  of  a  husband  who  is  not  un- 
worthy of  your  devotion.  Only  in  this  way  can  a 
princess  expect  true  happiness.  Even  this  happiness 
cannot  be  gained  without  self-denial,  I  know  it ;  it  is 
difficult  to  every  one  to  control  themselves.  To  those 
who  are  born  in  the  purple  this  virtue  is  ten  times 
more  difficult  than  to  others.  Forgive  me,"  he  con- 
tinued, "I  have  become  talkative,  as  often  happens  to 
us  old  people  at  Court." 

"You  have  not  said  too  much,  my  friend,  nor  too 
little, "said  the  Princess,  much  moved.  "I  have  al- 
ways cherished  the  hope  to  live  on  quietly  for  myself, 
surrounded  by  men  who  would  teach  me  the  highest 
things  that  it  is  possible  for  a  woman  to  acquire.  On 
this  path  also  I  find  tender  duties,  noble  bonds  which 
unite  me  with  the  best,  and  such  a  life  also  would  not 
be  unworthy  of  a  princess  ;  more  than  one  have,  in 
former  times,  chosen  this  lot,  and  posterity  respects 
them." 

"Your  Highness  does  not  mean  Queen  Christina 
of  Sweden,"  replied  the  High  Steward.  "But  to 
others  also  this  lot  has  seldom  been  a  blessing.  Your 
Highness  must  remember  that  when  a  princess  sur- 
rounds herself  with  wise  men,  she  means  always  one 
man  who.  is  to  her  the  wisest. " 

The  Princess  was  silent,  and  looked  down. 

"We  have  now  long  discussed  the  possible  po- 
sition of  a  princess,"  began  the  old  gentleman  ;  "let  us 
now  consider  the  fate  of  the  men  who  would  be 
united  by  tender  bonds  to  the  life  of  an  illustrious  lady. 
Granted  that  she  should  succeed  in  finding  a  friend, 


414  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

who,  without  unseemly  pretensions,  would  attach 
himself  with  self-denial  and  real  devotion  to  the  ac- 
tive and  varied  life  of  a  princess.  He  must  sacrifice 
much  and  forego  much ;  the  right  of  the  husband 
is  that  the  wife  should  devote  herself  to  him,  but 
in  this  case  a  man  must  fetter  the  powers, — nay,  even 
the  passions  of  his  nature, — for  a  woman  who  would 
not  belong  to  him,  whom  he  could  only  cautiously 
approach  at  certain  hours  as  a  friend  unto  friend  ;  who 
would  consider  him  at  first,  to  a  certain  extent,  as  a 
valuable  possession  and  a  beautiful  ornament,  but 
finally,  under  the  best  circumstances,  as  a  useful  bit  of 
furniture.  The  greatest  sufferer  in  such  a  position 
would  be  the  artist  or  scholar.  I  have  always  felt 
compassion  for  the  walking  dictionaries  of  a  prin- 
cely household.  Even  men  of  great  talent  then  re- 
semble the  philosophers  of  ancient  Rome,  who,  with  the 
long  beard  and  the  mantle  of  their  schools,  pass  through 
the  streets  in  the  train  of  some  distinguished  lady." 

The  Princess  rose,  and  turned  away. 

"  Better,  undoubtedly,  is  the  situation  of  the  man," 
concluded  the  High  Steward,  "whose  personality 
allows  him  to  guide,  by  silent  work,  the  life-current 
of  his  high-born  friend.  Yet  even  he  must  not  only 
himself  lose  much  of  what  is  most  delightful  in  life, 
but,  even  with  the  purest  intentions,  he  will  not  always 
be  able  to  give  pleasure  to  his  princess.  He  who 
would  be  more  than  a  faithful  servant  diminishes  the 
security  of  his  princely  mistress.  Should  such  chival- 
rous devotion  be  offered,  a  noble  woman  should  hesi- 
tate to  accept  it,  but  to  endeavor  to  attract  it  does 
not  become  a  princess." 

Tears  rushed  to  the  eyes  of  the  Princess,  and  she 
turned  quickly  to  the  old  man. 


THE    LORD    HIGH    STEWARD.  415 

"I  know  such  a  life,"  she  exclaimed;  "one  that 
has  been  passed  in  unceasing  self-denial — a  blessing 
to  three  ladies  of  our  family.  O  my  father,  I  know 
well  what  you  have  been  to  us ;  have  patience  with 
your  poor  ward.  I  struggle  against  your  words  ;  it  is 
a  hard  task  for  me  to  listen  to  you,  and  yet  I  know 
that  you  are  the  only  secure  support  that  I  have  ever 
had  in  this  life.  Your  admonitions  alone  have  pre- 
served me  from  destruction." 

Again  she  seized  his  hand,  and  her  head  sank  on 
his  shoulder. 

"I  loved  your  grandmother,"  replied  the  old  man, 
with  trembling  voice;  "it  was  at  a  time  when  such 
things  were  lightly  thought  of.  It  was  a  pure  con- 
nection ;  I  lived  for  her;  I  made  daily  self-sacrifice 
for  her.  She  was  unhappy,  for  she  was  the  wife  of 
another,  and  her  holiest  duties  were  made  difficult  to 
her  by  my  life.  I  guarded  your  mother  like  an  anxious 
servant,  but  I  could  not  prevent  her  from  being  un- 
happy and  dying  with  the  feeling  of  her  misery.  And 
now  I  hold  the  third  generation  to  my  heart,  and  be- 
fore I  am  called  away  I  would  like  to  impress  my  life 
and  the  sufferings  of  your  mother  as  a  lesson  on  you. 
I  have  never  been  so  anxious  about  you  as  I  am  now. 
If  my  dear  child  has  ever  felt  the  heart  of  a  fatherly 
friend  in  my  words,  she  should  not  lightly  esteem  my 
counsel  now,  whatever  brilliant  dreams  it  may  dispel. " 

"I  will  think  of  your  words,"  exclaimed  the  Prin- 
cess. "I  will  endeavor  to  resign  my  wishes;  but, 
father,  my  kind  father,  it  will  be  very  hard  for  me. " 

The  old  gentleman  collected  himself,  and  inter- 
rupted her. 

"It  is  enough,"  he  said,  with  the  composure  that 
befitted  his  office;  "your  Highness  has  shown  me 


416  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

great  consideration  to-day.  There  are  others  who  also 
desire  their  share  of  your  Highness's  favor." 

There  was  a  knock  at  the  door.  The  waiting- 
woman  entered. 

"The  servant  announces  that  Lady  Gotlinde  and 
the  gentlemen  are  waiting  in  the  tea-room." 

"I  have  still  some  business  with  his  Excellency," 
answered  the  Princess,  gently.  "  I  must  beg  Gotlinde 
to  take  my  place  in  entertaining  our  guest." 


Evening  had  descended  upon  the  castle-tower,  the 
bats  flew  from  their  hiding-places  in  the  vacant  room; 
they  whirled  about  in  circles,  astonished  that  they  had 
awoke  in  an  empty  habitation.  The  owls  flew  into 
the  crevices  of  the  tower,  and  searched  with  their 
round  eyes  after  the  old  arm-chairs,  on  which  they 
had  formerly  waited  for  the  stupid  mice ;  and  the 
death-watch,  which  the  scholar  had  carried  down  from 
the  lonely  room,  gnawed  and  ticked  on  the  staircase 
and  in  the  rooms  of  the  castle  among  living  men.  The 
rain  beat  against  the  walls,  and  the  stormy  wind 
howled  round  the  tower.  The  wife  of  the  scholar  was 
driving  through  the  night,  flying  like  a  hunted  hare; 
but  he  was  pacing  up  and  down  his  room,  dreamily 
forming  from  the  discovered  leaves  the  whole  lost 
manuscript.  And  again  he  wondered  within  himself 
that  it  looked  quite  different  from  what  he  had  im- 
agined it  for  years. 

The  wind  also  howled  about  the  princely  castle  at 
the  capital,  and  large  drops  of  rain  beat  against  the 
window;  there,  also,  the  powers  of  nature  raged  and 
demanded  entrance  into  the  firm  fortress  of  man.  The 
darkness  of  the  night  seemed  to  pervade  the  halls  and 


THE    LORD    HIGH    STEWARD.  417 

the  decorated  rooms  like  gloomy  smoke ;  only  the 
lamps  in  the  pleasure-grounds  threw  their  pale  light 
through  the  window,  and  made  the  desolate  look  of 
the  room  still  more  dreary.  The  melancholy  tones  of 
the  castle  clock  sounded  through  the  house,  announc- 
ing that  the  first  hour  of  the  new  day  was  come.  Then 
again  silence,  desolate  silence,  everywhere  ;  only  a  pale 
glimmer  from  the  distance  on  the  covers  of  the  chande- 
liers and  the  golden  ornaments  of  the  walls.  Some- 
times there  was  a  crackling  in  the  parquet  of  the  floor, 
and  a  draught  of  wind  blew  through  an  open  pane 
upon  the  curtains,  which  hung  black  round  the  window 
like  funeral  drapery.  Here  and  there  fell  a  scanty  ray 
of  light  on  the  wall,  where  hung  the  portraits  of  the 
ancestors  of  the  princely  house  in  the  dress  of  their 
time.  Many  generations  had  dwelt  in  these  rooms ; 
stately  men  and  beautiful  women  had  danced  here. 
Wine  had  been  poured  out  in  golden  goblets  ;  gracious 
words,  festive  speeches,  and  the  soft  murmur  of  love, 
had  been  heard  here ;  the  splendor  of  every  former 
age  had  been  outdone  by  the  richer  adornment  of  later 
ones.  Now  everything  had  vanished  and  withered ; 
the  darkness  of  night  and  of  death  hung  over  the  bright 
colors.  All  those  who  had  once  moved  about  and 
rejoiced  in  the  brilliant  throng,  had  passed  away  into 
the  depths.  Nothing  now  remained  of  these  hours 
but  a  dreary  void  and  dismal  stillness,  and  one  single 
figure  which  glided  about  on  the  smooth  floor,  noiseless 
like  a  ghost.  It  was  the  lord  of  this  castle.  His  head 
bent  forward  as  in  a  dream,  he  passed  along  by  the 
pictures  of  his  ancestors. 

"The  timid  doe  has  escaped,"  he  whispered;  "the 
panther  made  too  short  a  spring  :  in  rage  and  shame 
he  now  creeps  back  to  his  den.  The  powerful  beast 


41 8  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

could  not  conceal  his  claws.  The  chase  is  over ;  it  is 
time  to  set  at  rest  the  beatings  of  this  breast.  It  was 
only  a  woman — a  small,  unknown  human  life.  But 
the  jade  Fancy  had  bound  my  senses  to  her  body; 
to  her  alone  belonged  whatever  remained  in  me  of 
warmth  and  devotion  to  human  kind." 

He  stopped  before  a  picture,  on  which  fell  the 
gloomy  light  of  an  expiring  lamp. 

"You,  my  steel-clad  ancestor,  know  what  the  feel- 
ing is  of  him  who  flies  from  home  and  court,  and  has 
to  give  up  to  his  enemy  what  is  dear  to  him.  When 
you  fled  from  the  castle  of  your  fathers,  a  homeless 
fugitive,  pursued  by  a  pack  of  foreign  mercenaries, 
there  was  misery  in  your  heart,  and  you  cast  back  a 
wild  curse  behind  you.  Still  poorer  does  your  de- 
scendant feel,  who  now  glides  fleeting  through  the  in- 
heritance that  you  have  left  him.  To  you  remained 
hope  in  your  hard  heart;  but  I  to-day  have  lost  all 
that  is  worth  the  effort  of  life.  She  has  escaped  my 
guards.  Where  to?  To  her  father's  house  on  the 
rock  !  Cursed  be  the  hour  when  I,  deceived  by  her 
words,  sent  the  boy  among  those  mountains." 

He  dragged  himself  onward. 

"The  third  station  on  the  road  to  the  end,"  he 
meditated,  "is  idle  and  empty  play,  and  puerile  tricks. 
So  said  the  learned  pedant.  It  coincides  ;  I  am  trans- 
formed into  a  childish  caricature  of  my  nature.  Mis- 
erable was  the  texture  of  the  net  which  I  drew  around 
her;  a  firm  will  could  have  broken  it  in  a  moment.  He 
was  right ;  the  game  was  childish  :  by  a  stroke  of  a 
quill  I  wished  to  hold  him  fast,  and,  before  the  art  of 
the  Magister  had  accomplished  its  purpose,  I  disturbed 
the  success  of  the  scheme  by  the  trembling  haste  of  my 
passion.  When  the  news  comes  to  him  that  his  wife 


THE    LORD    HIGH    STEWARD.  419 

has  fled,  he  also  will  pack  up  his  books,  and  mock  me 
at  a  safe  distance.  Bad  player,  who  approached  the 
gaming-table  with  a  good  method,  to  put  piece  after 
piece  on  the  green  cloth,  and  who  in  his  madness  flung 
down  his  purse  and  lost  all  in  one  throw.  Curses 
upon  him  and  me  !  He  must  not  escape  from  me  ; 
he  must  not  see  her.  Yet,  what  use  is  there  in  keeping 
him,  unless  I  encase  his  limbs  in  iron,  or  conceal  his 
body  below,  where  we  shall  all  be  concealed  when 
others  obtain  the  power  of  doing  what  they  will  with 
us  ?  You  lie,  Professor,  when  you  compare  me  to 
your  old  Emperors.  I  am  alarmed  at  the  thought  of 
things  which  they  did  laughing,  and  my  brain  refuses 
to  think  of  what  was  once  commanded  by  a  short 
gesture  of  the  hand.  A  ball  and  dice  for  two,"  he 
continued  ;  "  that  is  a  merry  game,  invented  by  men  of 
my  sort;  as  it  turns  up,  one  falls  and'the  other  escapes. 
We  will  throw  the  dice,  Professor,  to  see  which  of 
us  shall  do  his  opponent  the  last  service  ;  and  I  will 
greet  you,  dreamer,  if  I  am  the  fortunate  one  that 
is  carried  to  rest.  Does  thy  wit,  philosopher,  extend 
far  enough  to  see  thy  fate,  as  happened  to  that  old 
astrologer,  of  whom  thy  Tiberius  inquired  about  his 
own  future  ?  Let  us  try  how  wise  you  are. " 

He  again  stood  still,  and  looked  restlessly  on  the 
dark  pictures. 

"You  shake  your  heads,  you  silent  figures;  many 
of  you  have  done  injury  to  others;  but  you  are 
all  honorably  interred,  with  mourning  marshals  and 
funeral  horses.  Songs  have  been  sung  in  your  honor, 
and  learned  men  have  framed  Latin  elegies,  and  sighed 
that  the  golden  shower  has  ceased  that  fell  upon  them 
from  your  hands.  There  stands  one  of  you,  "he  ex- 
claimed, gazing  with  fixed  eyes  on  a  corner;  "there 


420  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

hovers  the  spirit  of  woe,  the  dark  shadow  that  passes 
through  this  house  when  misfortune  approaches  it — 
guilt  and  atonement.  It  passes  along  bodiless  to 
frighten  fools,  an  apparition  of  my  diseased  mind.  I 
see  it  raise  its  hand — it  scares  me.  I  am  terrified  at 
the  images  of  my  own  brain.  Away  !  "  he  called  out, 
aloud,  "away  !  I  am  the  lord  of  this  house." 

He  ran  through  the  room  and  stumbled  ;  the  black 
shadow  hastened  behind  him.  The  Sovereign  fell 
upon  the  floor.  He  cried  aloud  for  help  through  the 
desolate  space.  A  valet  hastened  from  the  anteroom. 
He  found  his  master  lying  on  the  ground. 

"I  heard  a  shrill  cry,"  said  the  Sovereign,  raising 
himself  up;  "who  was  it  that  screamed  above  my 
head?" 

The  servant  replied,  trembling  : 

"I  know  not 'who  it  was.  I  heard  the  cry,  and 
hastened  hither." 

"It  was  myself,  I  suppose,"  the  master  returned, 
in  a  faltering  tone;  "my  weakness  overcame  me." 


In  the  early  morning  the  Professor  called  to  the 
Castellan,  and  rushed  up  the  staircase  of  the  tower. 
He  went  about  the  room,  pushing  boards  and  planks 
in  all  directions  ;  he  found  many  forgotten  chests,  but 
not  that  which  he  sought.  He  made  the  Castellan 
open  each  of  the  adjoining  rooms  ;  went  through  gar- 
rets and  cellars ;  he  examined  the  forester,  who  lived 
in  a  house  near  by,  but  the  latter  could  give  him  no 
information.  When  the  Scholar  again  entered  his 
room,  he  laid  his  head  on  his  hands  ;  prolonged  dis- 
appointment and  the  consciousness  of  his  impotence 
overmastered  him.  But  he  chid  and  restrained  himself. 


THE    LORD    HIGH    STEWARD.  421 

"  I  have  lost  too  much  of  the  cool  circumspection 
which  Fritz  said  was  the  highest  virtue  of  a  collector. 
I  must  accustom  myself  to  the  thought  of  self-resig- 
nation, and  calmly  examine  the  hopes  which  still  re- 
main. I  must  not  be  ungrateful  also  for  the  little  I 
have  gained." 

He  could  not  sit  quietly  by  the  discovered  leaves, 
but  paced  thoughtfully  up  and  down.  He  heard  voices 
in  the  court-yard  ;  hasty  running  in  the  passages ;  and 
at  last  a  lackey  announced  the  arrival  of  the  Sovereign, 
and  that  he  wished  to  see  the  Professor  at  breakfast. 

The  table  was  spread  among  blooming  bushes  on 
the  side  of  the  tower  that  faced  the  rising  sun.  When 
the  Professor  entered  under  the  roof  which  protected 
the  place  from  rain  and  the  rays  of  the  sun,  he  found 
there,  besides  the  household  and  Marshal,  the  forest 
officials  and  the  Lord  High  Steward,  who  thought, 
with  more  anxiety  than  the  Professor,  of  the  sudden 
arrival  of  the  Sovereign.  The  old  lord  approached 
the  Scholar,  and  spoke  on  indifferent  subjects. 

"How  long  do  you  think  of  remaining  here?"  he 
asked,  politely. 

"I  shall  request  permission  to  return  to  the  city 
in  an  hour  ;  I  have  accomplished  what  I  had  to  do." 

It  was  a  long  time  before  the  princely  party  ap- 
peared. When  the  Sovereign  approached  them,  all 
present  were  struck  by  his  ill  appearance  :  his  move- 
ments were  hurried,  his  features  disturbed,  and  his 
looks  passed  unsteadily  over  the  company.  He  turned 
first  to  the  forester,  who  was  in  attendance,  and  asked 
him,  harshly : 

"  How  can  you  tolerate  the  disagreeable  screaming 
of  the  daws  on  the  tower  ?  It  was  your  business  to 
remove  them." 


422  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

"  Her  Highness  the  Princess  last  summer  requested 
that  the  birds  be  left." 

"The  noise  is  insupportable  to  me,"  said  the 
Sovereign;  "bring  out  the  weapons,  and  prepare 
yourself  to  shoot  among  them." 

As  the  practice  of  shooting  was  one  of  the  regular 
country  pleasures  of  the  Court,  and  the  Sovereign  had, 
even  in  the  neighborhood  of  the  castle,  frequently 
used  his  gun  on  birds  of  prey  or  other  unusual  objects, 
the  Court  thought  less  seriously  of  this  commission 
than  did  the  Scholar. 

The  Sovereign  turned  to  the  Lord  High  Steward. 

"I  am  surprised  to  find  your  Excellency  here,"  he 
said  ;  "  I  did  not  know  that  you  too  had  taken  leave  of 
absence  for  this  quiet  life." 

"My  gracious  master  would  have  been  surprised 
if  I  had  not  done  my  duty.  It  was  my  intention  to 
have  reported  to  your  Highness  to-day  at  the  palace 
concerning  the  health  of  the  Princess." 

"  So  it  was  for  that,"  said  the  Sovereign.  "  I  had 
forgotten  that  my  Lord  High  Steward  is  never  weary 
of  his  office  of  guardian." 

"An  office  that  one  has  exercised  almost  half  a 
century  in  the  service  of  the  illustrious  family  becomes 
in  fact  a  habit,"  replied  the  High  Steward.  "Your 
Highness  has  heretofore  judged  with  kind  considera- 
tion the  zeal  of  a  servant  who  is  anxious  to  make  him- 
self useful." 

The  Sovereign  turned  to  the  Marshal,  and  asked, 
in  a  suppressed  voice  : 

"Will  he  remain?" 

The  Marshal  replied,  distressed  : 

"I  could  obtain  no  promise,  nor  even  a  wish  from 
him." 


THE    LORD    HIGH    STEWARD.  423 

' '  I  knew  it  already, "  replied  the  Sovereign,  hoarsely. 
He  turned  to  the  Professor,  and  violently  forced  him- 
self to  assume  a  friendly  demeanor,  as  he  said:  "I 
have  heard  from  my  daughter  of  your  campaign  against 
broken  chairs.  I  wish  to  have  some  talk  with  you 
alone  about  it." 

They  sat  down  to  table.  The  Sovereign  gazed 
vacantly  before  him,  and  drank  several  glasses  of 
wine  ;  the  Princess  also  sat  silent,  the  conversation 
flagged,  the  High  Steward  alone  became  talkative. 
He  asked  about  a  bust  of  Winkelmann,  and  spoke  of 
the  lively  interest  which  the  nation  took  in  the  fate  of 
their  intellectual  leaders. 

"  It  must  be  an  agreeable  feeling,"  he  said,  po- 
litely, to  the  Professor,  "to  be  in  a  certain  measure 
under  the  protection  of  the  whole  civilized  world.  In 
the  majority  of  cases  the  private  life  of  our  great 
men  of  learning  passes  away  uneventfully,  but  our 
people  delight  in  occupying  themselves  with  the 
course  of  life  of  those  who  have  departed.  If  happy 
accident  brings  a  person  into  contact  with  gentlemen 
of  your  standing,  he  must  take  care  that  he  does  not 
suffer  for  all  eternity  under  the  hands  of  later  biograph- 
ers. I  confess,"  he  continued,  laughing,  "that  a  fear 
on  this  point  has  robbed  me  of  many  interesting 
acquaintances." 

The  Professor  answered,  quietly  : 

"The  people  are  conscious  that  they  have  by  the 
labor  of  scholars  first  been  raised  from  misery  ;  but 
with  greater  experience  in  political  life,  their  interest  in 
the  promoters  of  our  present  culture  will  assume  more 
moderate  proportions." 

"I  have  told  the  Sovereign  that  you  have  found  some- 
thing here,"  remarked  the  Princess,  across  the  table. 


424  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

"There  has  been  a  remarkable  discovery  made  in 
an  ancient  sepulchre,"  interrupted  the  High  Steward; 
and  he  gave  a  diffuse  account  of  a  funeral- urn. 

But  now  the  Sovereign  himself  turned  to  the 
Scholar. 

"  Surely  you  may  hope  to  find  the  rest  ?  " 

"Unfortunately,  I  do  not  know  where  to  search 
further,"  replied  the  Professor. 

"What  you  have  found,  then,"  continued  the 
Sovereign,  with  self-control,  "is  unimportant." 

It  did  not  please  the  Professor  that  the  conversation 
should  again  turn  upon  the  manuscript ;  he  felt  an- 
noyed at  having  to  talk  about  his  Romans. 

"It  is  a  few  chapters  from  the  sixth  book  of  the 
Annals,"  he  replied,  with  reserve. 

"When  your  Highness  was  at  Pompeii,"  inter- 
posed the  High  Steward,  "the  inscriptions  on  the 
walls  attracted  your  attention.  In  those  days  a  beauti- 
ful treatise  upon  the  subject  came  into  my  hands ;  it 
is  fascinating  to  observe  the  lively  people  of  lower 
Italy  in  the  unrestrained  expression  of  their  love  and 
their  hatred.  One  feels  oneself  transplanted  as  vividly 
into  the  old  time  by  the  nai've  utterances  of  the  com- 
mon people,  as  if  one  took  a  newspaper  in  one's  hand 
that  had  been  written  centuries  ago.  If  any  one  had 
told  the  citizens  of  Pompeii  that  at  the  end  of  eighteen 
centuries  it  would  be  known  who  they,  in  accidental 
ill-humor,  had  treated  with  hostility,  they  would  hardly 
have  believed  it.  We  indeed  are  more  cautious." 

"That  was  the  hatred  of  insignificant  people," 
replied  the  Sovereign,  absently.  "  Tacitus  knew  noth- 
ing of  that,  he  only  concerned  himself  about  the 
scandal  of  the  court.  Probably  he  also  held  office." 

The  Princess  looked  uneasily  at  the  Sovereign. 


THE    LORD    HIGH    STEWARD.  425 

"  Is  there  anything  in  the  contents  of  the  parch- 
ment leaves  which  would  be  interesting  to  us  ladies?  " 
she  said,  endeavoring  to  turn  the  conversation. 

"Nothing  new,"  replied  the  Scholar.  "As  I  had 
the  honor  of  telling  your  Highness,  the  same  passage 
was  already  known  to  us  from  an  Italian  manuscript: 
it  is  about  small  events  in  the  Roman  senate." 

"Quarrels  of  the  assembled  fathers,"  interposed 
the  Sovereign,  carelessly.  "They  were  miserable 
slaves.  Is  that  all?" 

"At  the  end,  there  is  another  anecdote  of  the  last 
years  of  Tiberius.  The  disturbed  mind  of  the  prince 
clung  to  astrology  :  he  called  astrologers  to  him  to 
Capri,  and  caused  those  to  be  cast  into  the  sea  whom 
he  suspected  of  deceit.  Even  the  prudent  Trasyllus 
was  taken  to  him  over  the  fatal  rock  path,  and  he  an- 
nounced the  concealed  secret  of  the  Imperial  life. 
Then  the  Emperor  furtively  asked  of  him  whether  he 
knew  what  would  happen  to  himself  that  day?  The 
philosopher  inquired  of  the  stars,  and  called  out, 
trembling  :  '  My  situation  is  critical ;  I  see  myself  in 
danger  of  death.'  At  this  passage  our  fragment  breaks 
off.  The  incident  may  have  been  repeated — the  same 
anecdote  attaches  to  more  than  one  princely  life." 

A  couple  of  daws  flew  round  the  battlements  of 
the  tower,  they  cawed  and  screamed,  and  told  one 
another  that  underneath  there  stood  a  sportsman  who 
was  seeking  his  game.  The  Sovereign  suddenly  arose. 

"There  must  be  an  end  to  the  screaming  of  these 
birds." 

He  beckoned  to  the  forester.  The  man  approached, 
and  placed  a  weapon  in  his  hands..  The  Sovereign 
placed  the  but-end  on  the  ground  and  turned  to  the 
Professor,  while  the  Princess,  disquieted  by  the  last 


426  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

words  of  the  Scholar,  stood  aside  with  her  suite, 
struggling  for  composure. 

"The  Princess  has  told  me,"  began  the  Sovereign, 
"that  you  have  some  hesitation  as  to  fulfilling  a  wish 
that  we  have  all  much  at  heart.  I  hope  that  the 
hindrances  may  not  be  insurmountable." 

"It  becomes  me,"  replied  the  Professor,  delighted 
by  the  kind  words  of  the  Sovereign,  "to  weigh  calmly 
so  honorable  a  proposal.  But  I  have  other  things  to 
take  into  account  besides  the  cause  of  learning." 

"What  others?"  asked  the  Sovereign. 

"The  wish  of  a  loved  wife,"  said  the  Professor. 
A  sudden  convulsion  shook  the  limbs  of  the  Sover- 
eign. 

"And  how  do  you  consider  your  relations  to  me  ?  " 
asked  the  Sovereign,  in  a  hoarse  voice. 

The  Scholar  looked  at  the  man,  from  whose  eyes 
darted  a  look  of  deadly  hatred  and  malignity.  He  saw 
the  muzzle  of  the  weapon  directed  toward  his  breast, 
and  the  raised  foot  of  the  Sovereign  feeling  for  the 
trigger.  The  flash  of  lightning  impended,  there  was 
no  room  for  flight,  no  time  for  movement ;  the  thought 
of  the  last  moment  passed  through  his  mind.  He  saw 
before  him  the  distorted  countenance  of  the  Emperor 
Tiberius,  and  he  said,  in  a  low  voice  : 

"  I  stand  on  the  verge  of  death." 

"The  Sovereign  is  sinking,"  called  out  the  High 
Steward. 

He  threw  himself  with  outstretched  arms  towards 
his  master,  and  seized  his  hands.  The  Sovereign 
tottered,  the  weapon  fell  to  the  ground,  he  himself  was 
received  in  the  arms  of  those  who  hastened  toward 
him.  The  Princess  flew  up  to  them,  and  looked  in- 
quiringly into  the  pale  face  of  the  Scholar. 


THE    LORD    HIGH    STEWARD.  427 

"The  Sovereign  has  been  attacked  by  a  sudden 
dizziness,"  answered  the  latter  calmly. 

"My  master  is  losing  consciousness,"  cried  the 
High  Steward.  "How  are  you,  Mr.  Werner?" 

The  hands  of  the  old  man  trembled. 

The  Sovereign  lay  senseless  in  the  arms  of  his 
attendants,  and  was  carried  to  the  castle. 

The  by-standers  expressed  with  much  concern  their 
terror  at  the  event  and  the  Princess  hastened  after 
the  stricken  Sovereign.  Before  the  High  Steward 
followed,  he  said  to  the  Professor,  whilst  giving  him  a 
searching  look  : 

"It  is  not  the  first  time  that  the  Sovereign  has 
b'een  taken  ill  in  such  a  manner.  Was  that  a  surprise 
to  you  ?  You  did  not  know  that  the  Sovereign  was 
suffering  in  this  way?" 

"I  know  it  to-day,"  replied  the  Scholar,  coldly. 

A  few  minutes  afterwards  the  High  Steward  entered 
the  room  of  the  Professor,  who  was  preparing  for  his 
journey. 

"I  come  to  beg  your  indulgence,"  began  the  High 
Steward  ;  "for  I  must  trouble  you  with  an  acknowl- 
edgment which  is  painful  to  me.  You  have  talked 
much  lately  in  my  presence  to  the  Sovereign  of  the 
Caesarian  madness  of  the  Roman  emperors.  What 
you  then  said  was  very  instructive  to  me." 

"I  now  find,"  replied  the  Professor,  gloomily, 
"that  the  place  was  ill  chosen." 

"More  than  you  assume, "  replied  the  courtier, 
drily.  "  To  me  it  was  peculiarly  instructive,  but  not 
so  much  what  you  said  as  that  you  said  it.  I  should 
not  have  thought  it  possible  that  any  one  would  so 
acutely  reason  upon  the  past,  and  so  completely  give 


428  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

up  all  judgment  of  that  which  was  around  him.  You 
then  told  a  sick  man  the  story  of  his  own  disease." 

"  I  have  just  discovered  that,"  replied  the  Scholar. 

"The  Sovereign  is  diseased  in  mind.  It  is  now 
necessary  that  you  should  know  it.  I  have  a  second 
confession  to  make  to  you.  I  discover  that  I  have 
misjudged  you." 

"I  shall  be  glad  if  your  present  opinion  is  more 
favorable  to  me  than  the  former  one,"  replied  the  Pro- 
fessor, with  dignity. 

"In  your  point  of  view,  yes,"  continued  the  High 
Steward.  "  I  have  for  along  time  regarded  you  in 
your  relations  here  as  a  cautious  man,  who  was  clev- 
erly following  out  his  objects.  I  have  learnt  that  you 
are  not  that,  but  something  different." 

"  An  honorable  man,  your  Excellency,"  replied  the 
Professor. 

"We  have  nothing  to  reproach  one  another  with," 
rejoined  the  courtier,  bowing;  "as  you  misjudged  the 
Sovereign,  so  did  I  misunderstand  you;  but  my  mis- 
take is  the  greater,  for  I  am  an  older  man,  and  I  have 
not  the  excuse  of  a  specially  intellectual  mind,  which 
sometimes  makes  it  difficult  for  a  man  to  judge  cor- 
rectly of  other  .natures.  But  we  have  both  one  ex- 
cuse. It  is  seldom  easy  to  form  a  just  estimate  of 
those  who  have  grown  up  in  other  circles,  and  show  a 
different  combination  of  virtues  and  weaknesses.  We 
are  all  liable  to  be  confused  in  our  judgment,  accord- 
ing as  our  self-respect  is  satisfied  or  wounded.  Where 
genial  tendencies  find  no  response,  displeasure  erects  a 
barrier;  and  where  powerful  tones  echo  sympathetically 
to  one's  breast,  there  is  the  danger  of  too  rapid  inti- 
macy. Thus  I  have  put  too  low  a  value  on  your  honor- 
able openness  and  candor.  I  now  pay  the  penalty,  for 


THE    LORD    HIGH    STEWARD.  429 

I  have  to  confide  to  you  a  secret  that  I  have  no  doubt 
you  will  accept  with  proper  regard." 

"  I  assume  that  your  Excellency  does  not  make  this 
communication  to  me  without  a  specific  cause." 

"There  is  a  plan  for  keeping  you  in  our  city,"  in- 
terposed the  High  Steward. 

"Proposals  of  this  nature  have  been  made  to  me 
since  yesterday." 

The  High  Steward  continued  :  "  It  is  not  necessary 
for  me  to  be  anxious  about  your  answer.  You  have 
learnt  the  meaning  which  is  concealed  under  a  veil  of 
civility.  Do  you  know  why  the  Sovereign  made  you 
the  proposal  ?  " 

"No;  up  to  this  morning  I  have  not  doubted  that 
a  certain  personal  feeling  of  kindness,  and  the  view 
that  I  might  be  useful  here,  were  the  motives." 

"You  are  mistaken,"  replied  the  High  Steward. 
"It  is  not  a  wish  to  keep  you  here  merely  for  passing 
private  interests.  The  real  motive  is,  as  appears  to 
me,  the  freak  of  a  diseased  mind,  which  sees  in  you  an 
opponent,  and  fears  a  sharp-sightedness  that  will  re- 
morselessly disclose  to  the  world  a  diseased  spirit. 
You  were  to  be  fettered  here ;  you  were  to  be  cajoled, 
watched,  and  persecuted.  You  are  an  object  of  in- 
terest, of  fear,  and  of  aversion." 

The  Professor  rose. 

"What  I  have  experienced  and  what  you  tell  me 
compel  me  to  leave  this  place  instantly." 

"I  do  not  wish,"  said  the  High  Steward,  "that 
you  shall  depart  from  here  with  displeasure,  if  this  can 
be  avoided  ;  both  on  your  own  account  and  for  the 
sake  of  many  of  us." 

The  Professor  went  to  the  table,  on  which  lay  the 
parchment  leaves. 


430  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

"  I  beg  your  indulgence  if  I  do  not  regain  my  com- 
posure immediately.  The  situation  in  which  we  are 
placed  is  like  that  of  a  distant  century  ;  it  stands  in 
fearful  contrast  to  the  cheerful  security  with  which 
we  are  wont  to  consider  our  own  lives  and  the  souls 
of  our  contemporaries." 

"  Cheerful  security?"  asked  the  High  Steward,  sor- 
rowfully. "In  courts,  at  least,  you  must  not  seek 
this,  nor  under  any  circumstances  in  which  the  indi- 
vidual passes  out  of  private  life.  Cheerful  security  ! 
I  must  ask  whether  we  have  it  in  this  century?  It 
would  be  difficult  to  find  a  time  in  which  there  is  so 
much  that  is  insecure  ;  in  which  the  old  is  so  decayed, 
and  the  new  so  weak." 

The  Professor  raised  his  head,  astonished  at  the 
bitter  complaints  of  the  old  man.  The  High  Steward 
continued,  indignantly  : 

"I  hear  everywhere  of  the  hopes  that  one  has  in 
the  nation,  and  I  see  an  abundance  of  young  student- 
like  confidence.  There  is  not  much  mature  power, 
and  I  do  not  blame  a  sanguine  man  if  he  places  his 
hopes  on  it ;  nay,  I  even  admit  that  this  youthful 
spirit  is  in  fact  the  best  hope  that  we  have.  But  I  am 
an  old  man;  I  cannot  among  these  novelties  find  any- 
thing that  commands  my  respect,  where  they  affect 
the  interests  of  private  life.  I  feel  the  decay  of  vital 
power  in  the  air  which  surrounds  me.  My  youth  be- 
longed to  a  time  when  the  best  culture  of  the  nation 
was  to  be  found  at  Court.  My  own  ancestors  have 
for  six  centuries  taken  an  eager  part  in  the  follies  and 
crimes,  and  also  in  the  pride,  of  their  times  ;  and  I 
have  grown  to  be  a  man  in  the  conception  that  princes 
and  nobles  were  the  born  leaders  of  the  nation.  I  see 
with  sorrow  that  they  have  for  long,  perhaps  for 


THE    LORD    HIGH    STEWARD.  431 

ever,  lost  this  lead.  Much  of  what  you  lately  said  ex- 
actly coincides  with  the  last  decades  that  I  have  passed 
through.  It  has  been  a  sorrowful  time  ;  the  hollow 
weakness  in  the  life  of  the  people  has  in  a  great  measure 
deteriorated  the  higher  classes.  But  there  has  not 
been  altogether  a  deficiency  of  honorable  and  powerful 
men.  What  time  has  been  entirely  without  them  ?  But 
what  should  be  the  noblest  blossom  of  the  national 
strength  is  just  what  in  this  empty  shallow  time  is 
most  deeply  diseased." 

The  Professor  interposed  : 

"It  is  a  cause  for  sorrow;  but  where,  perhaps,  the 
individual  loses,  the  whole  gains?" 

"Undoubtedly  not,"  replied  the  courtier;  "if  only 
the  gain  to  the  whole  was  certain.  But  I  see  with  as- 
tonishment that  the  greatest  concerns  of  the  nation 
are  carried  on,  on  all  sides,  with  school-boyish  petti- 
ness. Much  that  is  valuable  is  lost;  nothing  better  is 
gained.  The  delicacy  of  feeling  which  formerly  ex- 
pressed itself  beneficially  in  all  forms  of  intercourse, 
and  the  discreet  management  of  important  affairs,  be- 
come rare.  If  these  advantages  did  not  suffice  to  form 
the  character,  as  is  perhaps  needed  in  the  present, 
they  made  life  pleasing  and  beautiful.  A  secure  feel- 
ing of  superiority,  and  a  gracious  rule  over  others, 
was  general  at  courts  and  in  business  ;  of  this  we  are 
deprived.  Diplomacy  has  ceased  to  be  distinguished. 
One  sets  bluntly  to  work  ;  not  only  nobleness  of  feel- 
ing, but  even  the  pleasing  show  of  it  is  wanting ;  an 
uncertain  pettiness,  a  grumbling,  irritable,  reserved 
character  has  gained  the  upper  hand  at  courts,  ard  in 
diplomacy  ill-bred  frivolity,  without  knowledge  and 
without  manly  will.  Our  princes  rattle  about  like  ac- 
coutred idlers ;  the  old  court  discipline  is  lost,  and  one 


432  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

feels  oneself  incessantly  on  the  defensive,  and  seeks 
for  safety  in  senseless  attacks.  It  is  impossible  not 
to  feel  that  by  these  acts  one  is  irretrievably  going 
downward." 

The  Professor  smiled  at  the  sorrow  of  the  old  lord. 

"  I  do  not  blame  you,"  continued  the  High  Steward, 
"if  you  do  not  feel  the  misfortune  of  this  change  as 
deeply  as  I  do.  It  is  only  a  pity  that  it  should  always  be 
the  highest  earthly  interests  which  are  thus  trifled  with. " 

"But  is  this  misfortune  so  general?"  replied  the 
Professor. 

"Some  splendid  exceptions  have  not  been  want- 
ing," said  the  High  Steward  ;  "some  were  granted  us 
at  a  time  when  we  played  the  greatest  tragedy  before 
the  world,  as  if  here  and  there  to  preserve  a  bright  ro- 
mance. They  have  scarcely  been  wanting  in  a  coun- 
try which  possesses  the  five  qualities  which  are  nec- 
essary to  form  a  good  court  :  an  upright  sovereign,  an 
amiable  princess,  a  high-minded  statesman,  some  in- 
tellectual court  ladies,  and  a  superior  spirit  among  the 
cavaliers.  But  these  requisites  are  seldom  found." 

"Were  they  ever  frequent?" 

"They  were  the  pride  of  our  nation  at  the  time 
from  which  my  earliest  recollections  date,"  replied  the 
High  Steward. 

"Just  at  this  time  we  gained  something  else  of 
which  we  may  still  be  proud,"  rejoined  the  Scholar. 
"There  was  a  short  period  during  which  the  Court 
became  the  home  of  the  most  liberal  culture  of  the  time, 
and  it  was  only  through  the  rare  political  circumstances 
of  our  nation  that  this  leadership  was  possible.  Now 
it  has  passed  into  other  circles,  and  we  have  ex- 
changed the  increased  capacity  of  many  for  the  distin- 
guished culture  of  individuals." 


THE    LORD    HIGH    STEWARD.  433 

"In  this  also  there  is  a  loss,"  returned  the  High 
Steward;  "distinguished  men  have  become  rare.  I 
am  ready  to  acknowledge  the  advance  which  the  cit- 
izen classes  have  made  in  the  last  fifty  years.  But  the 
capacity  which  a  people  develop  in  trade  and  com- 
merce is  seldom  united  with  secure  self-respect,  nay, 
seldom  also  with  that  firmly-established  position  which 
is  necessary  to  political  strength.  Too  frequently  we 
find  a  wavering  between  discontented  insolence  and 
over-great  subserviency ;  covetousness  abounds,  and 
self-sacrifice  is  small.  Wealth  increases  everywhere  ; 
who  can  deny  that  ?  But  not  in  the  same  degree  a 
comprehension  of  the  highest  interests  of  the  nation." 

"Time  will  improve,"  rejoined  the  Scholar,  "and 
our  sons  will  become  firmer  and  freer ;  here  too  our 
future  belongs  to  those  who  work  laboriously." 

"Much  maybe  lost,"  said  the  High  Steward,  "be- 
fore the  improvement  which  you  expect  becomes  great 
enough  to  secure  to  those  who  are  struggling  onward 
a  salutary  and  active  participation  in  the  affairs  of 
government.  I  am  too  old  to  nourish  myself  with 
hopes,  and  therefore  cannot  adopt  your  sanguine  con- 
ception of  our  situation.  I  wish  for  the  good  of  our 
nation,  in  whatever  way  it  may  come.  I  know  it  has 
passed  through  crises  more  critical  than  its  present 
swaying  between  a  decaying  and  a  rising  culture.  But 
I  feel  that  the  air  in  which  I  live  is  growing  more  sultry ; 
the  tense  excitement  of  contrast  more  dangerous.  When 
I  look  back  on  a  long  life,  I  sometimes  feel  horror 
at  the  moral  pestilence  that  I  have  contemplated.  It 
was  not  a  time  of  gigantic  vices  like  your  Imperial 
era,  but  it  was  a  time  in  which,  after  short  poetic 
dreams,  the  weakness  of  petty  souls  ruled  and  brought 
distraction.  The  figures  which  in  this  lamentable  time 


434  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

have  passed  away  will  appear  to  posterity,  not  fearful, 
but  grotesque  and  contemptible.  You,  Professor,  live 
in  a  new  epoch  in  which  a  younger  generation  awk- 
wardly endeavors  to  rise.  I  have  no  sympathy  for  the 
new  style.  I  have  not  the  courage  to  hope,  for  I  have 
no  power  to  promote  the  culture  of  the  younger  gen- 
eration." 

He  had  risen.  The  old  man  and  the  young,  vigo- 
rous man,  the  diplomat  and  the  scholar,  stood  oppo- 
site to  each  other ;  the  one  an  advocate  for  the  world 
which  was  tending  downwards  ;  the  other  a  proclaimer 
of  a  teaching  which  was  unceasingly  to  renew  the  old 
world  ;  secret  sorrow  lay  on  the  calm  countenance  of 
the  old  man,  and  feeling,  vigorous  feeling,  worked  in 
the  animated  features  of  the  younger :  a  high  mind 
and  a  refined  spirit  were  visible  in  the  open  counte- 
nance of  both. 

"What  we  had  to  say  to  one  another,"  continued 
the  High  Steward,  "is  said.  I  have  endeavored  to 
make  amends  for  my  mistake  in  regard  to  you.  May 
the  gossiping  openness  with  which  I  have  exposed 
myself  to  your  judgment  be  some  small  compensation 
for  my  having  been  so  long  silent.  It  is  the  best  sat- 
isfaction that  I  can  give  to  a  man  of  your  sort.  As  re- 
spects the  diseased  state  of  mind  of  others,  which  was 
the  subject  of  our  conversation,  there  need  be  no  fur- 
ther words  between  us ;  both  of  us  will  endeavor  to  do 
what  is  our  duty  concerning  the  men  that  are  entrusted 
to  our  care,  to  preserve  them  from  danger  and  to  guard 
ourselves.  Mr.  Werner,  farewell.  May  the  occupa- 
tion which  you  have  chosen  preserve  your  joyful  con- 
fidence in  your  time  and  your  generation  for  as  many 
years  as  I  bear  on  my  head.  This  highest  happiness 


THE    LORD    HIGH    STEWARD.  435 

of  man,  I,  an  insignificant  individual,  have  painfully 
felt  the  want  of,  as  did  your  great  Roman." 

"Allow  me,  your  Excellency,  to  express  one  re- 
quest to  you,"  replied  the  Scholar,  with  warm  feeling. 
"Often  may  the  unpractical  activity  of  the  new  apos- 
tles evoke  a  bitter  smile  from  you,  and  the  unfinished 
work  which  we  pioneers  of  learning  throw  off  will  not 
always  satisfy  the  demands  which  you  make  upon  us ; 
but  when  you  are  compelled  to  blame  us,  remember,  with 
forbearance,  that  our  nation  can  only  bear  within  it 
the  guaranty  of  renewing  youth  so  long  as  it  does  not 
lose  respect  for  intellectual  aspiration,  and  retains  its 
simple  honesty,  in  love  and  hate.  So  long  as  the  na- 
tion renews  itself,  it  may  inspire  its  princes  and  leaders 
with  new  life ;  for  we  are  not  Romans,  but  staunch 
and  warm-hearted  Germans." 

"Nero  no  longer  ventures  to  burn  the  apostles  of 
a  new  doctrine,"  replied  the  High  Steward,  with  a  sad 
smile.  "  May  I  say  something  kindly  from  you  to  the 
Sovereign,  as  far  as  is  compatible  with  your  dignity?" 

"I  beg  you  to  do  so,"  replied  the  Professor. 

The  Professor  hastened  to  take  leave  of  the  Princess. 
She  received  him  in  the  presence  of  her  ladies  and  the 
Marshal.  Few  words  were  exchanged.  Upon  ex- 
pressing the  hope  of  seeing  him  soon  again  at  the  cap- 
ital, speech  almost  forsook  her.  When  he  had  left  the 
room,  she  flew  up  to  her  library  and  looked  down  on 
the  carriage  into  which  the  chest  was  being  put.  She 
plucked  some  flowers  which  the  gardener  had  placed 
in  her  room,  and  fastened  them  together  with  a  ribbon. 

"His  eye  looked  upon  you,  and  his  voice  sounded 
in  the  narrow  halls  in  which  you  are  passing  your 
life.  It  was  a  short  dream  !  No,  not  a  dream,  a  beau- 
tiful picture  from  a  new  world. 


436  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

"As  the  womanly  heart  submits,  in  loving  devo- 
tion, to  the  stronger  mind  of  a  life-companion,  her  eye 
fixed  upon  his,  such  is  the  happiness  of  which  I  have 
had  a  presage.  Only  once  has  my  hand  touched  his, 
but  I  feel  as  if  I  had  lain  on  his  heart,  invisible,  bodi- 
less. No  one  knows  it,  not  even  himself,  I  alone  felt 
the  happiness.  Light,  airy  bond,  woven  of  the  ten- 
derest  threads  that  ever  were  drawn  from  one  human 
soul  to  another,  thou  must  be  torn  and  blown  away  ! 
Only  the  consciousness  remains  that  the  inclination 
which  drew  two  strangers  together  has  been  forever  a 
blessing  to  one  of  them. 

"You,  earnest  man,  go  on  your  path,  and  I  on 
mine ;  and  if  accident  should  bring  us  together,  then 
we  shall  bow  civilly  to  each  other,  and  greet  one  an- 
other with  courtly  speeches.  Farewell,  my  scholar. 
When  I  meet  with  one  of  your  associates,  I  shall  hence- 
forth know  that  he  belongs  to  the  silent  community, 
in  whose  porch  I  have  humbly  bowed  my  head. " 

From  the  tops  of  the  trees  on  which  the  princely 
child  was  looking  down  the  birds  were  singing.  The 
carriage  rolled  away ;  she  bent  down,  and  held  the 
nosegay  with  outstretched  hand  ;  then  with  a  powerful 
swing  she  threw  the  flowers  on  to  the  top  of  a  tree ; 
they  hung  among  the  leaves  ;  a  little  bird  flew  out,  but 
the  next  moment  he  again  perched  by  the  nosegay,  and 
continued  his  song.  But  the  Princess  leaned  her  head 
against  the  wall  of  the  tower. 

The  Scholar  drove  to  the  city  with  the  chest  he 
had  found  beside  him.  More  rapid  and  stormy  than 
on  his  coming  were  the  thoughts  that  flitted  through 
his  soul ;  he  hastened  the  coachman,  and  an  indefinite 
anxiety  fixed  his  looks  on  the  rising  towers  of  the  cap- 
ital. But  amidst  all,  he  ever  saw  the  figure  of  the 


THE  MAGISTER'S  EXIT.  437 

High  Steward  before  him,  and  heard  the  sorrowful 
words  of  his  soft  voice. 

"  Immeasurably  great  is  the  difference  between  the 
narrow  relations  of  this  Court  and  the  mighty  greatness 
of  Imperial  Rome ;  immeasurably  great  also  the  dif- 
ference between  the  troubled  Court  lord  and  the 
gloomy  power  of  a  Roman  senator.  And  yet  there  is 
something  in  the  structure  of  the  soul  that  has  this 
day  displayed  itself  to  me  which  reminds  me  of  a  figure 
from  a  time  long  past ;  and  what  he  said  sounds  in  my 
soul  like  a  feeble  tone  from  the  heart  of  the  man  whose 
work  I  seek  in  vain.  For  just  as  we  endeavor  to  ex- 
plain the  present  from  the  past,  so  do  we  interpret 
circumstances  and  figures  of  a  past  time  in  the  light 
of  the  men  that  live  around  us.  The  past  unceasingly 
sends  its  spirit  into  our  souls,  and  we  unceasingly 
adapt  the  past  to  conform  to  the  needs  of  our  hearts." 

CHAPTER  XXXVIII. 
THE   MAGISTER'S    EXIT. 

PROFESSOR  RASCHKE  was  sitting  on  the  floor  of  his 
room.  The  bright  colors  of  his  Turkish  dressing- 
gown  were  faded ;  constant  perseverance  in  scientific 
service  had  given  it  a  tinge  of  pale  grey,  but  it  still 
continued  worthily  to  cover  the  limbs  of  its  master. 
The  Professor  had  seated  himself  by  the  side  of  his 
eldest  son  Marcus,  in  order  to  facilitate  the  latter's 
study  of  the  first  book  of  A,  B,  C.  While  the  little 
one,  tired  of  the  pictures,  was  resting,  his  father  made 
use  of  the  pause  to  draw  a  small  copy  of  Aristotle  out 
of  his  pocket.  He  read,  and  made  remarks  with  a 
pencil,  not  observing  that  his  son  Marcus  had  long 


438  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

thrown  away  the  picture  book,  and  with  the  other 
children  danced  round  their  father. 

"  Papa,  take  your  legs  away;  we  can't  get  round 
them,"  exclaimed  Bertha,  the  eldest,  from  whom,  in- 
deed, one  might  have  expected  greater  discretion. 

Raschke  drew  in  his  legs,  and  as  after  that  he 
found  his  seat  uncomfortable,  he  desired  the  children 
to  bring  him  a  chair.  They  brought  the  chair,  and  he 
supported  his  back  against  it. 

"We  can't  get  around  yet,"  cried  the  dancing  chil- 
dren. 

Raschke  looked  up.  "  Then  I  will  sit  upon  the 
chair." 

That  was  satisfactory  to  the  children,  and  the  noisy 
hubbub  continued. 

"Come  here,  Bertha,"  said  Raschke;  "you  may 
act  as  my  desk."  He  laid  the  book  on  her  head  whilst 
he  read  and  wrote  ;  and  the  little  one  stood  as  still  as  a 
mouse  under  the  book,  and  scolded  the  others  because 
they  made  a  noise. 

There  was  a  knock  ;  the  Doctor  entered. 

"  Ha,  Fritz  !  "  called  out  the  Professor  ;  "  I  hardly 
recognized  you  ;  I  must  try  to  recall  your  face.  Is 
it  right  to  set  your  friends  aside  in  this  way,  when 
a  friendly  greeting  might  do  you  good  ?  Laura  has 
told  me  what  has  happened  to  your  dear  father.  A 
heavy  loss,"  he  continued,  sorrowfully:  "if  I  am  not 
mistaken,  two  hundred  thousand." 

"Just  one  cipher  too  much." 

"It  matters  little,"  replied  Raschke,  "what  the 
loss  is,  compared  with  the  sorrow  it  occasions.  I 
should  have  been  with  you,  Fritz,  at  that  time.  I 
started  immediately,  but  a  circumstance  interfered 
with  my  intention,"  he  added,  embarrassed.  "  I  have 


THE  MAGISTER'S  EXIT.  439 

long  been  accustomed  to  go  to  your  street  in  the  eve- 
ning, and — -well — I  got  to  the  wrong  house,  and  with 
difficulty  found  my  way  back  to  the  lecture." 

"  Do  not  pity  me, "  replied  the  Doctor  ;  "rejoice 
with  me — I  am  a  happy  man.  I  have  just  now  found, 
what  I  despaired  of  obtaining,  Laura's  heart  and  the 
consent  of  her  father." 

Raschke  clapped  the  Doctor  on  the  shoulder,  and 
pressed  first  one  hand,  then  the  other.  "The  father's!  " 
he  exclaimed  ;  "he  was  the  hindrance.  I  know  some- 
thing of  him,  and  I  know  his  dog.  If  I  may  judge  of 
the  man  by  his  dog,"  he  continued,  doubtingly,  "he 
must  be  a  character.  Is  it  not  so,  my  friend  ?  " 

The  Doctor  laughed.  ."There  has  been  an  old 
enmity  brooding  over  our  street.  My  poor  soul  has 
been  unkindly  treated  by  him,  like  the  Psyche  in  the 
tale  of  Venus.  He  vents  his  anger  upon  me,  and 
gives  me  insoluble  tasks.  But  beneath  all  his  in- 
solence, I  perceive  that  he  is  reconciled  to  my  attach- 
ment. I  anticipate  happiness,  for  I  am  to-day  to  ac- 
company Laura  to  Bielstein.  On  my  friend's  account 
alone  have  I  wished  to  start  earlier  on  this  journey. 
I  cannot  rid  myself  of  one  anxiety.  I  am  disturbed 
that  the  Magister  is  in  the  neighborhood  of  Werner." 

Raschke  passed  his  hand  through  his  hair.  "In- 
deed," he  exclaimed. 

"I  have  distinct  reasons  for  this,"  continued  the 
Doctor.  "  The  dealer  who  was  said  to  have  brought 
the  forged  parchment  strip  of  Struvelius  to  the  city 
was  sent  to  me  by  the  mother  of  the  Magister.  I  dealt 
severely  with  him,  as  was  natural;  but  he  assured  me 
that  he  knew  nothing  of  such  a  parchment,  and  never 
had  sold  such  a  sheet  to  the  Magister.  The  anger  of 
the  man  at  the  false  assertion  of  the  Magister  has 


44O  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

made  me  very  anxious.  It  confirms  a  suspicion  that 
I  have  expressed  in  a  letter  with  respect  to  the 
genuineness  of  another  piece  of  writing  which  has 
been  mentioned  to  me  by  Werner  from  the  capital. 
I  cannot  help  fearing  that  the  Magister  himself  was 
the  forger,  and  a  terror  comes  over  me  at  the  thought 
that  he  is  now  exercising  his  art  upon  our  friend." 

"  That  is  a  very  serious  affair,"  exclaimed  Raschke, 
pacing  up  and  down,  disquieted.  "Werner  trusted 
the  Magister  implicitly." 

The  Doctor  also  paced  up  and  down.  "Only 
think,  if  his  noble  confidence  should  make  him  the 
victim  of  a  deceit.  Fancy  what  a  bitter  sorrow  that 
would  be  to  him.  He  would  long  struggle  sternly  and 
self-tormentingly  with  a  painful  impression,  which  we 
should  not  be  able  to  obliterate  without  great  effort." 

"You  are  quite  right,"  said  Raschke,  again  passing 
his  hand  through  his  hair.  "  It  is  not  in  him  to  be  able  to 
overcome  moral  delinquency  without  great  exitement. 
You  must  warn  him  at  once,  and  that  face  to  face." 

"  Unfortunately  I  cannot  do  that  for  several  days  ; 
meanwhile,  I  beg  of  you  to  make  Professor  Struvelius 
acquainted  with  the  statement  of  the  dealer." 

The  Doctor  went  away.  Raschke  forgot  Aristotle, 
and  meditated  anxiously  on  the  treachery  of  the  Ma- 
gister. Whilst  so  doing,  there  was  a  knock,  and 
Struvelius,  with  Flaminia,  stood  at  the  open  door. 

Raschke  greeted  them,  called  his  wife,  begged 
them  to  sit  down,  and  quite  forgot  that  he  was  in  his 
Turkish  dressing-gown. 

"We  come  with  one  wish,"  began  Flaminia,  sol- 
emnly. "It  is  with  respect  to  our  colleague  Werner. 
My  husband  will  impart  to  you  what  has  moved  us 
both  deeply." 


THE  MAGISTER'S  EXIT.  441 

Raschke  started  up  from  his  chair.  Struvelius, 
whose  emotion  was  only  visible  in  his  bristly  hair, 
began:  "We  were  called  yesterday  to  the  police- 
station.  When  the  brother  of  Magister  Knips  fled 
to  America,  his  things  were  taken  possession  of  on 
the  application  of  petty  creditors,  and  as  the  greater 
portion  of  his  effects  were  at  his  mother's  house,  they 
were  taken»  away  from  there.  Amongst  them  were 
utensils  and  portfolios  which  evidently  did  not  belong 
to  the  fugitive,  but  to  his  brother ;  one  of  those  port- 
folios contained  tracings  after  the  style  of  manuscripts, 
unfinished  attempts  to  imitate  old  writings,  and  written 
parchment  sheets.  The  officials  had  been  surprised 
at  these,  and  requested  me  to  inspect  them.  It  ap- 
peared upon  closer  observation  that  the  Magister  had 
long  been  occupied  in  acquiring  the  skill  of  imitating 
the  characters  of  the  Middle  Ages.  And  from  the 
fragments  I  have  found  in  the  portfolio,  there  can  be 
no  doubt  that  he  has  other  forgeries  in  his  collection, 
some  of  which  answer  exactly  to  that  parchment  strip. " 

"That  is  enough,  Struvelius,"  began  his  wife. 
"Now  let  me  speak.  You  may  imagine,  dear  col- 
league, that  Werner  at  once  occurred  to  us,  and  that 
we  were  greatly  alarmed  lest  the  husband  of  our 
friend  should  get  into  trouble  through  the  deceiver. 
I  asked  Struvelius  to  write  Professor  Werner,  but  he 
preferred  to  inform  him  through  you.  This  method 
also  appeared  most  satisfactory  to  me." 

Raschke,  without  saying  a  word,  took  off  his  dress- 
ing-gown, and  ran  in  his  shirt  -  sleeves  about  the 
room,  searching  in  all  the  corners.  At  last  he  found 
his  hat,  which  he  put  on. 

"What  are  you  about,  Raschke  !  "  exclaimed  his 
wife. 


442  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

"Why  do  you  ask?"  he  said,  hastily;  "there 
is  no  time  for  delay.  I  beg  your  pardon,  Mrs.  Stru- 
velius,"  he  said  observing  his  sleeves,  and  again  put 
on  his  dressing-gown,  but  in  his  excitement  he  still 
kept  on  his  hat,  and  thus  attired,  seated  himself 
opposite  his  friends.  Bertha,  at  a  sign  from  her 
mother,  gently  took  his  hat  off. 

"A  quick  decision  is  necessary  in  thic  case,"  he 
repeated. 

"There  is  no  reason,"  continued  Struvelius,  "for 
withholding  the  property  of  the  Magister  from  his 
mother;  but,  meanwhile,  they  would  willingly  allow 
you  an  inspection  of  the  writings." 

"That  I  do  not  wish, "  exclaimed  Raschke ;  "it 
would  spoil  the  day  for  me.  Your  judgment,  Stru- 
velius, satisfies  me." 

There  was  some  further  excited  interchange  of 
views,  and  the  visitors  left.  Again  Raschke  rushed 
stormily  about,  so  that  the  skirts  of  his  dressing-gown 
flew  over  the  chairs. 

"Dear  Aurelia,  do  not  be  frightened  ;  I  have  made 
up  my  mind.  I  shall  set  out  to-morrow." 

Mrs.  Raschke  clasped  her  hands  together. 

"  What  are  you  thinking  of,  Raschke  ?  " 

"It  is  necessary,"  he  said.  "  I  despair  of  shaking 
the  firm  views  of  Werner  by  letter.  My  duty  is  to 
try  whether  persuasive  words  and  detailed  represen- 
tations will  have  greater  effect.  I  must  know  in  what 
relation  my  friend  stands  to  the  Magister.  From  cer- 
tain intimations  of  the  Doctor,  I  fear  the  worst  from 
the  activity  of  the  forger.  I  have  a  short  vacation 
before  me,  and  I  cannot  employ  it  better." 

"But,  Raschke,  you  wish  to  travel!"  asked  his 


THE  MAGISTER'S  EXIT.  443 

wife,  reproachfully.  "How  can  you  engage  in  such 
an  undertaking?  " 

"You  mistake  me,  Aurelia  ;  in  our  city  I  some- 
times do  lose  my  bearings,  but  in  foreign  parts  I 
always  find  my  way." 

"  Because  you  have  never  yet  been  alone  in  foreign 
parts,"  replied  the  prudent  wife. 

Raschke  approached  her,  and  raised  his  hand 
warningly. 

"Aurelia,  it  is  for  our  friend,  and  one  must  pay  no 
regard  to  trifles." 

"You  will  never  get  there,"  rejoined  his  wife, 
with  sad  foreboding. 

"It  is  much  easier  to  speed  through  half  the  world 
in  a  secure  vessel  than  to  go  on  two  legs  through  our 
streets;  half  acquaintances  are  the  most  unreliable." 

"Then  the  money  for  the  journey,  Raschke?" 
whispered  Mrs.  Aurelia,  in  a  low  voice,  that  the  chil- 
dren might  not  hear. 

"You  have  in  your  linen  cupboard  an  old  black 
savings-box,"  replied  Raschke,  slily.  "Do  you  think 
I  know  nothing  of  it?" 

"What  I  have  collected  in  that  is  for  a  new  dress- 
coat." 

"You  wish  to  take  away  from  me  my  old  one?" 
asked  Raschke,  indignantly ;  "it  is  well  that  I  have 
made  the  discovery.  I  would  now  travel  to  the  cap- 
ital even  if  I  had  no  occasion  for  it.  Out  with  the  box  !" 

Mrs.  Aurelia  went  slowly,  brought  the  savings-box, 
and  with  silent  reproach,  put  it  into  his  hands.  The 
Professor  tossed  the  money,  together  with  the  box, 
into  his  breeches' pocket,  threw  his  arm  round  his  wife, 
and  kissed  her  on  the  forehead. 

"You  are  my  own  dear  wife,"  he  exclaimed  ;  "  and 


444  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

now  there  must  be  no  delay.  Bring  me  Plato  and 
Spinoza." 

Plato  was  the  silk  cap,  and  Spinoza  the  thick  cloak 
of  the  Professor.  These  treasures  of  the  house  were 
so  called  because  they  had  been  bought  with  the  money 
earned  by  two  books  on  those  philosophers.  The  im- 
pression which  the  works  had  made  on  the  learned 
world  had  been  very  great,  but  the  remuneration  very 
small.  A  commotion  arose  among  the  children,  for  in 
winter  these  beautiful  articles  were  sometimes  brought 
out  for  a  Sunday  walk.  The  little  troop  ran  with  their 
mother  to  fetch  them. 

"Be  sure  and  bring  them  back,  Raschke.  I  am 
so  afraid  you  will  lose  one  of  them." 

"As  I  have  told  you,  Aurelia,  in  traveling  you 
may  depend  upon  me." 

"I  will  write  a  few  lines  to  Werner;  he  must  take 
care  that  you  keep  them  both.  I  will  put  the  letter 
in  your  coat  pocket,  if  you  will  only  give  it  to  him." 

"Why  not?"  exclaimed  Raschke,  courageously. 

The  following  morning  Mrs.  Aurelia  accompanied 
her  husband  to  the  point  from  which  the  coach  started 
and  took  care  that  he  came  to  the  right  place. 

"  If  you  were  only  safely  home  again  ! "  she  said, 
piteously. 

Raschke  kissed  her  gallantly,  and  seated  himself 
on  his  traveling-bag. 

"The  seats  are  remarkably  high,"  he  cried  out, 
with  his  legs  dangling.  His  traveling  companions 
laughed,  and  he  said,  civilly,  "I  beg  the  gentlemen 

to  excuse  me." 

* 
*  * 

The  lamps  burned,  and  the  moon  shone  through 
the  white  mist  on  the  walls  of  the  Pavilion  when  the 


THE  MAGISTER'S  EXIT.  445 

Professor  returned  there.  No  ray  of  light  fell  from 
the  windows.  The  house  stood  gloomy  and  aban- 
noned,  and  a  blue  phosphorescence  seemed  to  glimmer 
above  it.  The  door  was  closed  ;  the  lackey  had  disap- 
peared. The  Scholar  pulled  the  bell.  At  last  some 
one  came  down  the  stairs.  Gabriel  appeared,  and 
gave  vent  to  a  cry  of  joy  when  he  saw  his  master  be- 
fore him. 

"How  is  my  wife?"  asked  the  Professor. 

"Mrs.  Werner  is  not  at  home,"  replied  Gabriel, 
shyly.  He  beckoned  his  master  into  the  room  :  there 
he  gave  him  Use's  letter.  The  Professor  read  the 
lines,  and  held  them  in  his  hands  as  if  stunned.  This 
also  was  a  manuscript  which  he  had  found.  It  in- 
formed him  that  his  wife  had  gone  from  him  :  every 
word  went  like  a  dagger  to  his  heart.  When  he  looked 
at  Gabriel  he  perceived  that  he  did  not  yet  know  all. 
The  servant  told  him  what  had  happened.  The 
Scholar  pushed  the  chair  from  him ;  his  limbs  trem- 
bled as  in  a  fever. 

"We  will  leave  this  house  immediately,"  he  said, 
faintly;  "collect  all  the  things." 

Like  a  Romish  priest  who  prays  in  secret  devo- 
tion to  his  God,  he  had  veiled  his  head  from  the 
sounds  which  sought  to  penetrate  his  soul  from  the 
outward  world.  He  had  closed  his  ears  and  eyes  to 
the  figures  that  moved  about  him.  Now  fate  had 
torn  the  veil  from  his  head. 

"Mr.  Hummel  would  not  depart  before  your  ar- 
rival," continued  Gabriel ;  "he  is  in  great  haste." 

"  I  shall  go  to  his  inn  ;  follow  me,"  said  the  Pro- 
fessor; "but  first  mention  at  the  castle  that  I  have  de- 
parted." 

He  turned  away  and  left  the  house.     As  he  passed 


446  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

by  the  castle,  he  cast  a  wild  look  on  the  windows  of 
the  room  which  the  Sovereign  inhabited.  "He  is  not 
returned  yet;  patience,"  he  murmured.  He  then 
went,  as  if  in  a  state  of  stupor,  to  the  inn.  He  or- 
dered a  room,  and  inquired  after  his  landlord.  Im- 
mediately afterwards  Mr.  Hummel  entered. 

' '  Good  news, "  began  the  latter,  in  his  softest  tone  ; 
"a  messenger  from  the  Crown  Inspector  brings  me 
the  report  that  they  have  all  made  a  safe  journey.  It 
must  have  been  a  matter  of  caution  that  there  is  no 
letter  for  you." 

"  It  was  indeed  a  matter  of  caution,"  repeated  the 
Scholar,  and  his  head  sank  heavily  on  his  breast. 

Mr.  Hummel  seated  himself  close  to  him,  and 
whispered  in  his  ear.  At  the  last  words  the  Professor 
sprang  up  in  terror,  and  a  groan  sounded  through  the 
room. 

"A  man  is  not  a  screech  owl,"  declared  Mr.  Hum- 
mel, pacifyingly  ;  "  and  it  would  be  unjust  to  expect 
of  him  that  he  should  be  able  to  distinguish  in  the  dark- 
ness the  head  from  the  tail  of  a  rat ;  but  every  house- 
holder knows  that  there  are  also  worthless  contrivances 
of  architecture.  These  intimations  I  make  to  you 
only,  to  no  one  else.  I  sent  my  card  a  few  days  ago 
to  your  father-in-law.  Little  Fritz  Hahn  has,  in  your 
absence,  become  a  Doctor  Faustus,  who  will  carry  off 
my  poor  child  under  his  fiend's  cloak  to  Bielstein. 
May  I  announce  your  arrival  there  ?  " 

"Say,"  replied  the  Scholar,  gloomily,  "  that  I  will 
come  as  soon  as  I  have  settled  matters  here." 

He  held  Mr.  Hummel  firmly  by  the  hand,  as  if  he 
did  not  like  to  part  from  the  confidant  of  his  wife,  and 
led  him  down  to  the  hall.  New  travelers  had  arrived 
there,  and  a  little  gentleman  in  a  cloak  and  a  beautiful 


THE  MAGISTER'S  EXIT.  447 

silk  traveling- cap,  turned,  without  looking  from  under 
a  large  umbrella,  to  the  Professor,  and  said  : 

"I  should  be  much  obliged  if  you  would  show  me 
to  a  room,  waiter.  Am  I  in  the  right  place  here  ?  " 

He  mentioned  the  name  of  the  city;  the  Professor 
took  the  gentleman's  traveling-bag  from  him,  seized 
him  by  the  arm  without  saying  a  word,  and  took  him 
rapidly  up  the  stairs. 

"Very  polite,"  exclaimed  Raschke,  "I  thank  you 
sincerely,  but  I  am  not  at  all  tired ;  my  only  wish  is  to 
speak  to  Professor  Werner.  Can  you  arrange  for  an 
audience  with  him  ?  " 

Werner  opened  his  room,  took  off  his  hat,  and  em- 
braced him. 

"My  dear  colleague,"  cried  Raschke,  "  I  am  the 
most  fortunate  traveler  in  the  world  :  usually  a  pilgrim 
on  the  highroad  is  contented  if  no  misfortune  happens 
to  him,  but  I  have  met  in  the  carriage  with  modest  and 
thoughtful  men.  The  conductor  on  changing  car- 
riages carried  my  cap  after  me,  and  some  one  kindly 
accompanied  me  to  this  house ;  and  now  when,  for  the 
first  time,  I  stand  on  my  own  feet,  I  find  myself  in  the 
arms  of  him  whom  I  came  to  see.  It  is  a  pleasure  to 
travel,  colleague  :  at  every  mile-stone  one  observes  how 
good  and  warm-hearted  the  people  are  among  whom 
we  live.  We  are  fools  that  we  do  not  deliver  our 
lectures  in  carriages  ;  the  anxieties  of  our  wives  are  un- 
justifiable ;  a  man  can  manage  by  himself." 

Thus  did  Raschke  exult. 

"Who  lives  in  this  room — I  or  you?  " 

"You  may  remain  with  me  or  have  the  adjacent 
room,  as  you  please,"  replied  Werner. 

"Then  with  you ;  for  I  wish  to  be  without  you, 
my  friend,  as  little  as  possible." 


448  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

"You  come  to  a  man  who  is  in  need  of  consola- 
tion," said  the  Scholar.  "My  wife  is  with  her  father; 
I  am  alone,"  he  added,  with  faltering  voice. 

"You  look  to  me  like  a  traveler  who  draws  his 
cloak  around  him  in  bad  weather,"  exclaimed  Raschke ; 
"therefore  what  I  bring  you  will  at  any  rate  not  dis- 
turb you  in  cheerful  repose.  My  business  as  mes- 
senger is  to  lower  a  human  soul  in  your  eyes;  that  is 
hard  for  us  both." 

"I  have  to-day  experienced  what  would  shatter 
the  foundations  of  the  strongest  structure.  There  can 
be  but  little  that  would  shock  me  now  :  1  am  composed 
enough  to  listen." 

Raschke  seated  himself  by  him  and  told  his  story. 
He  fidgeted  about  on  the  sofa,  slapped  his  friend  on 
the  knee,  stroked  his  arm,  and  begged  for  composure. 

Again  was  a  veil  drawn  from  the  head  of  the 
seeker,  who  had  believed  himself  to  be  speaking  alone 
with  his  God.  The  Scholar  was  silent,  and  did  not 
flinch. 

"This  is  fearful,  friend?"  he  said,  at  last. 

With  that  he  broke  off,  and  the  whole  evening  he 
did  not  say  a  word  about  the  Magister. 

The  following  morning  the  Professors  sat  together 
in  Werner's  room.  Werner  at  last  threw  the  two 
parchment  sheets  on  the  table. 

"With  these  at  least  the  Magister  has  had  nothing 
to  do.  I  myself  fetched  them  out  of  the  old  rubbish  : 
there  lies  the  missal  on  the  chest.  It  demands  great 
self-control  for  me  to  look  at  that  dearly-bought  ac- 
quisition." 

Raschke  examined  the  parchment. 

"Highly  valuable, "he exclaimed,  "if  it  is  genuine, 
as  it  appears."  He  hastened  to  the  chest  and  exam- 


THE  MAGISTER'S  EXIT.  449 

ined  the  missal.  "Probably  the  initial  letters  of  the 
book  will  afford  some  evidence  as  to  whether  the  missal 
was  used  in  the  cloister  of  Rossau, "  he  said.  "I  re- 
gret that  my  knowledge  of  monastic  customs  does  not 
extend  to  this  test." 

He  opened  the  chest  and  took  up  the  contents. 
Of  the  absence  of  mind  which  usually  disturbed  him 
nothing  was  to  be  observed :  he  looked  round  with 
sharp  eyes,  as  if  he  were  searching  the  dark  words 
of  a  philosopher. 

"Very  remarkable,"  he  exclaimed.  "Only  one 
thing  surprises  me.  Has  the  chest  been  cleaned  out  ?  " 

"No,"  replied  Werner,  irritably. 

"The  three  companions  of  a  century's  repose  are 
wanting — dust,  cobwebs,  and  grubs ;  yet  there  ought 
to  have  been  something  on  the  inside  of  the  lid  or  on 
the  bottom,  for  the  chest  has  crevices  which  allow  of 
the  entrance  of  insects." 

He  rummaged  again,  and  examined  the  bottom. 

"Under  a  splinter  of  wood  there  hangs  a  bit  of 
paper." 

He  drew  out  a  tiny  piece  of  paper,  and  a  deep 
shadow  passed  over  his  noble  features. 

"Dear  friend,  compose  yourself,  and  be  prepared 
for  an  unwelcome  discovery.  On  this  fragment  there 
are  only  six  printed  words,  but  they  are  the  characters 
of  our  time  :  it  is  a  piece  of  one  of  our  newspapers,  and 
one  of  the  six  words  is  a  name  well  known  in  the  pol- 
itics of  our  day." 

He  laid  the  bit  of  paper  on  the  table.  Werner 
stared  at  it  without  saying  a  word  ;  his  countenance 
was  changed ;  it  seemed  as  if  one  hour  had  done  the 
work  of  twenty  years  of  care. 


450  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

"The  things  were  unpacked  by  me  and  again  put 
back  ;  it  is  possible  that  the  paper  may  have  fallen  in." 

"It  is  possible,"  replied  Raschke. 

The  Professor  jumped  up,  and  sought  in  great 
haste  for  his  pocket  copy  of  Tacitus. 

"  Here  is  the  reading  of  the  Florentine  manuscript, 
comparison  with  the  parchment  sheets  will  throw 
light  on  it."  He  compared  some  sentences.  "It  ap- 
pears an  accurate  copy,"  he  said,  "too  accurate — 
awkwardly  accurate." 

He  held  the  manuscript  searchingly  towards  the 
light ;  he  poured  a  drop  of  water  on  the  corner  of  the 
parchment  and  wiped  it  with  a  towel ;  the  next  mo- 
ment he  flung  towel  and  parchment  to  the  ground, 
and  clasped  his  hands  over  his  face.  Raschke  seized 
the  leaves,  and  looked  at  the  damaged  corner. 

"  It  is  true,"  he  exclaimed,  sorrowfully  ;  "  a  writing 
that  had  been  on  the  parchment  six  hundred  years 
would  leave  other  traces  on  the  material." 

He  paced  hastily  up  and  down,  his  hands  in  his 
coat  pocket,  rubbed  his  face  with  the  towel,  and,  per- 
ceiving his  mistake,  threw  it  away  from  him. 

"  I  only  know  of  one  word  for  this,"  he  exclaimed — 
' ( a  word  that  men  unwillingly  allow  to  pass  their  lips — 
and  that  word  is  villainy  !  " 

"It  was  a  piece  of  vile  and  rascally  knavery," 
exclaimed  Werner,  in  a  strong  voice. 

"  Here  let  us  stop,  friend,"  begged  Raschke;  "we 
know  that  a  deception  has  been  intended  ;  we  know 
that  the  attempt  has  been  made  lately  ;  and  when  we 
compare  the  place  of  the  discovery  and  your  presence 
here,  we  may  assume  as  a  fact,  without  doing  injustice 
to  any  one,  that  the  trick  was  intended  to  deceive 
you.  Of  the  person  who  has  practiced  it  we  have 


THE  MAGISTER'S  EXIT.  451 

only  suspicion,  well-grounded  suspicion,  but  no  cer- 
tainty." 

"We  will  make  it  certainty,"  explained  Werner, 
"before  the  day  becomes  many  hours  older." 

"Undoubtedly,"  replied  Raschke,  "this  certainty 
must  be  obtained,  for  suspicion  ought  not  to  continue 
in  the  hearts  of  men  ;  it  destroys  all  ideas  and  thoughts. 
But  the  ultimate  question  remains  :  For  what  object 
was  the  deceit  practiced?  Was  it  the  willfulness  of  a 
knave  ?  If  so,  the  wickedness  of  it  is  not,  to  an  hon- 
orable mind,  thereby  lessened ;  yet  it  is  not  the  worst 
kind  of  turpitude.  But  if  it  was  deliberate  malice  with 
intent  to  injure  you,  then  it  deserves  the  severest  con- 
demnation. On  what  terms  are  you  with  the  Magister  ?  " 

"  It  was  deliberate  malice  to  injure  a  man,  body 
and  soul,"  replied  the  Professor,  with  solemn  earnest- 
ness ;  "but  the  doer  was  only  the  tool — the  idea 
was  that  of  another." 

"Hold,"  cried  Raschke,  again,  "no  further;  this 
also  is  only  suspicion." 

"It  is  only  suspicion,"  repeated  the  Professor; 
"therefore  I  seek  for  certainty.  When  I  wished  to  go 
to  the  country  castle  I  was  detained  from  day  to  day 
under  trivial  pretexts  ;  the  Magister  was  absent  not 
long  ago  for  a  day  from  the  work  which  was  entrusted 
to  him  ;  he  excused  himself  on  the  score  of  illness, 
and  as  he  was  profuse  in  his  excuses  I  was  struck 
by  a  shyness  in  his  manner.  There  was  a  wish  to 
keep  me  here  for  reasons  which  you,  in  your  sphere 
of  feelings,  can  scarcely  understand.  It  was  hoped 
to  attain  this  object  by  exciting  the  fanatical  zeal  with 
which  I  was  afflicted,  without  entirely  contenting  it. 
Such  is  my  suspicion,  friend  ;  and  I  feel  myself  mis- 


452  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

erable,  more  miserable  than  I  have  ever  been  in  my 
life." 

He  threw  himself  on  the  sofa,  and  again  concealed 
his  face. 

Raschke  approached  him,  and  said,  softly  : 

"Does  it  distress  you  so  much,  Werner,  that  you 
have  been  deceived  ?  " 

"I  have  confided,  and  deceived  confidence  gives 
pain  ;  but  in  my  sorrow  I  feel  not  only  for  myself,  but 
for  the  destruction  of  another  who  belongs  to  us." 

Raschke  nodded  his  head.  He  again  paced  vehe- 
mently about  the  room,  and  looked  angrily  at  the  chest. 

Werner  rose  and  rang  the  bell. 

"  I  wish  to  speak  to  Magister  Knips, "  he  said,  to 
Gabriel,  who  entered.  "I  must  beg  him  to  take  the 
trouble  of  coming  here  as  soon  as  possible." 

"How  will  you  speak  to  him?"  asked  Raschke, 
stepping  anxiously  before  his  friend. 

"I  need  so  much  consideration  myself, "  replied 
Werner,  "that  you  need  not  fear  my  violence.  I 
also  have  been  laboring  under  a  disease,  and  I  know 
that  I  have  to  speak  to  one  who  is  more  diseased 
than  I." 

"You  are  not  diseased,"  exclaimed  Raschke,  "only 
shocked,  as  I  am.  You  will  say  what  is  necessary  to 
him,  for  the  rest  you  will  leave  him  to  his  own  con- 
science." 

"  I  will  only  say  what  is  necessary,"  repeated  the 
Professor,  mechanically. 

Gabriel  returned,  and  reported  that  the  Magister 
would  call  when  he  left  the  Museum  in  the  evening. 

"  How  did  the  Magister  take  the  message  ?  "  asked 
Raschke. 


THE  MAGISTER'S  EXIT.  453 

"He  appeared  alarmed  when  I  told  him  that  the 
Professor  was  stopping  at  the  inn." 

The  Professor  had  ensconced  himself  in  a  corner, 
but  the  philosopher  left  him  no  rest ;  he  kept  talking 
to  him  about  the  occurrences  at  the  University,  and 
compelled  him  to  take  part  by  frequent  questions.  At 
last  he  expressed  a  wish  to  take  a  walk,  to  which  the 
Professor  unwillingly  consented. 

Werner  led  him  through  the  gate  of  the  city ;  as 
they  walked  along  he  briefly  answered  the  lively  talk 
of  his  friend.  When  they  came  to  the  inn  from  which 
Use  had  got  into  the  carriage  of  the  Crown  Inspector, 
the  Scholar  began,  with  hoarse  voice  : 

"This  is  the  road  along  which  my  wife  escaped 
from  the  city.  I  came  early  this  morning  along  this 
same  road,  and  at  every  step  I  felt  what  is  the  deepest 
humiliation  to  man." 

"Before  her  was  light,  and  behind  her  darkness," 
exclaimed  Raschke. 

He  talked  of  Use,  and  now  thought  of  the  commis- 
sion which  his  children  had  given  to  their  aunt. 

Thus  the  afternoon  passed.  Werner  again  sat 
brooding  in  his  room,  when  Gabriel  announced  the 
arrival  of  the  Magister.  Before  Raschke  hastened 
into  the  next  room,  he  once  more  pressed  the  hand  of 
the  other,  and,  looking  imploringly  at  him,  said  : 

"Be  calm,  friend." 

"I  am  calm,"  replied  he. 

Magister  Knips  had  profited  by  the  refining  in- 
fluence of  the  Court.  His  black  suit  had  been  made 
by  a  tailor  who  had  the  princely  coat  of  arms  above 
his  workshop  ;  his  hair  was  free  from  feathers,  and 
his  vocabulary  had  been  replenished  with  new  ex- 


454  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

pressions  of  respect.     He  now  looked  furtively  and 
defiantly  around  him. 

Werner  measured  the  man  as  he  entered  with  a 
steady  look ;  if,  before,  he  had  had  a  doubt  of  the 
guilt  of  the  Magister,  he  now  recognized  it.  He  turned 
away  for  a  moment  in  order  to  struggle  with  his  aver- 
sion. 

"Examine  this,"  he  said,  pointing  with  his  finger 
to  the  parchment  leaves. 

Knips  took  a  leaf  in  his  hand,  and  the  parchment 
trembled  as  he  cast  a  shy  glance  upon  it. 

"  It  is  another  forger)7,"  said  the  Professor  ;  "the 
reading  of  the  first  Florentine  manuscript,  and  even 
the  peculiarities  of  its  orthography,  are  copied  with  a 
careful  accuracy  which  would  have  been  impossible 
to  any  old  transcriber.  The  writing,  too,  betrays 
itself  to  be  recent." 

The  Magister  laid  the  sheet  down,  and  answered, 
with  hesitation  : 

"It  appears  undoubtedly  to  be  an  imitation  of  an 
old  script,  as  the  Professor  has  already  discovered." 

"I  found  this  work,"  continued  the  Scholar,  "in 
the  tower  of  the  castle  in  the  country,  inserted  in  that 
torn  missal,  laid  in  that  chest,  and  concealed  among 
old  furniture.  And  you,  Magister,  have  prepared  this 
leaf,  and  you  have  concealed  it  in  this  place.  That  is 
not  all.  Long  before,  in  order  to  put  me  on  a  false 
track,  you  placed  the  register  of  a  chest  in  the  old 
records  ;  you  invented  the  figures  i  and  2  for  the  chests, 
and  further,  you  yourself  wrote  the  register  in  order  to 
deceive  me." 

The  Magister  stood  with  lowered  head,  seeking 
for  an  answer.  He  did  not  know  on  what  confession 
of  others  these  deliberate  assertions  were  grounded. 


THE  MAGISTER'S  EXIT.  455 

Had  the  Castellan  betrayed  him  ?  Had  the  Sovereign 
himself  exposed  him  ?  Terror  came  over  him,  but  he 
replied,  doggedly  : 

"I  did  not  do  it." 

"In  vain  do  you  seek  to  deceive  me  anew,"  con- 
tinued the  Scholar.  "If  I  had  not  already  sufficient 
ground  to  say  to  your  face  that  you  did  this,  your  de- 
meanor in  the  presence  of  this  sheet  would  be  ample 
evidence.  No  sound  of  astonishment,  no  word  of 
horror  at  such  an  attempt  at  forgery  escaped  you. 
What  true  scholar  would  look  upon  such  a  thing  and 
remain  silent,  if  his  own  conscience  did  not  close  his 
mouth  ?  What  have  I  done  to  you,  Magister,  that  you 
should  inflict  upon  me  this  bitter  anguish  ?  Give  me 
some  excuse  for  your  action.  Have  I  ever  injured 
you?  Have  I  ever  aroused  in  you  secret  ill-will 
against  me  ?  Any  reason  that  will  make  this  abomi- 
nation comprehensible  will  be  welcome  tome;  for  I 
look  with  dismay  on  this  depravation  of  a  human  soul. " 

"The  Professor  has  never  given  me  any  ground 
for  complaint,"  replied  Knips,  submissively. 

' '  Nevertheless, "  said  the  Professor,  '  <  in  cold  blood, 
with  indifference,  with  malicious  levity,  you  have  done 
your  worst  to  me  :  it  was  wrong,  very  wrong,  Magister. " 

"  Perhaps  it  was  only  a  jest,"  sighed  the  Magister ; 
"perhaps  it  was  only  put  in  that  way  to  him  who 
prepared  the  writing.  He  only  perhaps  acted  by  the 
command  of  another,  not  by  free  choice,  and  not  of 
his  own  will." 

"What  power  on  earth  could  command  you  to 
practice  towards  another  so  deliberate  a  piece  of 
knavery?"  asked  the  Professor,  sorrowfully.  "You 
yourself  know  right  well  what  consequences  this  de- 
ception may  have  for  myself  and  others." 


456  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

Magister  Knips  was  silent. 

"I  have  done  with  you,"  continued  the  Scholar. 
"I  shall  say  nothing  of  the  plan  which  this  falsehood 
was  to  serve,  nor  make  any  further  reproaches  con- 
cerning the  injury  that  you  have  practiced  towards  a 
man  who  trusted  in  your  honor." 

He  threw  the  parchment  under  the  table.  Knips 
seized  his  hat  silently  to  leave  the  room. 

"Stop  !"  exclaimed  the  Professor;  "do  not  move 
from  the  spot.  I  must  be  silent  as  to  what  you  have 
endeavored  to  do  personally  against  me.  It  is  not 
so  much  on  account  of  this  manuscript  that  I  have 
sent  for  you.  But  the  man  whom  I  see  before  me, 
on  whom  I  look  with  an  abhorrence  that  I  have  never 
yet  felt,  is  something  more  than  an  unscrupulous 
tool  in  the  service  of  a  stranger  ;  he  is  an  unfaithful 
philologist,  a  traitor  to  learning,  a  forger,  and  deceiver 
in  that  in  which  only  honorable  men  have  a  right  to 
live,  a  cursed  man,  for  whom  there  is  no  repentance 
and  no  mercy." 

The  Magister's  hat  fell  to  the  ground. 

"You  wrote  the  parchment  strip  of  Struvelius ; 
the  trader  has  informed  against  you  in  your  native 
city.  Your  writings  are  confiscated  and  are  in  the 
hands  of  the  police." 

The  Magister  still  remained  silent.  He  fumbled 
for  his  pocket-handkerchief  and  wiped  the  cold  sweat 
from  his  brow. 

"Now,  at  least,  speak  out, "  cried  Werner.  "Give 
me  an  explanation  of  the  fearful  riddle,  how  any  one 
who  belonged  to  us  could  willfully  destroy  all  that  made 
his  life  noble.  How  could  a  man  of  your  attainments 
become  untrue  to  science  in  so  despicable  a  way?" 


THE    MAGISTER  S    EXIT.  457 

"I  was  poor  and  my  life  full  of  trouble,"  replied 
Knips,  in  a 'low  voice. 

' '  Yes,  you  were  poor.  From  your  earliest  youth  you 
have  worked  from  morning  to  night ;  even  as  a  child 
you  have  denied  yourself  much  that  others  thought- 
lessly enjoy.  You  have  in  this  way  the  secret  con- 
sciousness of  having  obtained  for  yourself  inward  free- 
dom, and  a  humble  friendship  with  the  great  spirit  of 
our  life.  Yes,  you  have  grown  up  to  be  a  man  amidst 
countless  sacrifices  and  self-denials  which  others  fear. 
You  have  thus  learnt  and  taught  what  is  the  highest 
possession  of  man.  In  every  proof-sheet  that  you  have 
read  for  the  assistance  of  others,  in  every  index  of 
words  that  you  have  drawn  up  for  a  classical  work,  in 
every  word  that  you  have  corrected,  in  every  number 
that  you  have  written,  you  have  been  obliged  to  be 
truthful.  Your  daily  work  was  an  unceasing,  assiduous 
struggle  against  what  was  false  and  wrong.  Yet  more, 
and  worse  than  that,  you  have  been  no  thoughtless 
day-laborer ;  you  have  fully  and  entirely  belonged  to 
us ;  you  were,  in  fact,  a  scholar,  from  whose  learning 
many  with  higher  pretensions  have  frequently  taken 
counsel.  You  not  only  treasured  in  your  mind  a  mass  of 
rare  knowledge,  but  you  well  comprehend  the  thoughts 
to  which  such  knowledge  gives  rise.  You  were  all 
this — and  yet  a  forger.  With  true  devotion  and  self- 
denial,  you  united  malicious  willfulness  ;  you  were  a 
confidential  and  assiduous  assistant,  and  at  the  same 
time  a  deceiver,  bold  and  mocking  like  a  devil." 

"I  was  a  tortured  man,"  began  Knips.  "He 
who  has  lived  otherwise  does  not  know  how  difficult 
it  is,  in  the  service  of  science,  to  be  ever  following  in 
the  foot-steps  of  others.  You  have  never  worked  for 
others  who  knew  less  than  yourself.  You  do  not  un- 


458  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

derstand  the  feeling  that  possesses  one  when  others 
use  haughtily,  without  acknowledgement  and  without 
thanks,  what  one  has  given  them  from  one's  own 
knowledge.  I  am  not  insensible  to  friendship.  The 
Professor  was  the  first  who,  in  the  last  lines  of  the  in- 
troduction of  his  maiden  work,  mentioned  my  name 
because  I  had  been  of  use  to  him.  And  yet  I  have 
done  less  for  you  than  any  other  of  my  old  patrons. 
The  copy  which  you  then  gave  me  I  have  put  in  the 
place  of  honor  among  my  books.  Whenever  I  have 
felt  tired  from  my  night's  work  I  have  read  those  lines  ; 
I  have  seldom  experienced  the  like  kindliness.  But  I 
have  felt  the  torment  of  having  more  knowledge  than 
1  had  credit  for,  and  I  have  had  no  opportunity  to 
work  my  way  out  of  my  narrow  sphere.  That  has  been 
the  cause  of  all." 

The  Magister  suddenly  stopped. 

"It  was  pride,"  said  the  Professor,  sorrowfully, 
"it  was  envy,  that  burst  forth  from  an  oppressed  life 
against  more  fortunate  ones,  who,  perhaps,  did  not  know 
more  ;  it  was  the  craving  for  superiority  over  others." 

"It  was  that,"  continued  Knips,  plaintively.  "  First 
came  the  idea  of  mocking  those  who  employed  and 
despised  me.  I  thought,  if  I  chose,  I  had  you  in  my 
power,  my  learned  colleagues.  Then  it  became  a 
purpose  and  took  fast  hold  on  me.  I  have  sat  many 
nights  working  at  it  before  I  went  so  far,  and  fre- 
quently have  I  thrown  away  what  I  have  done,  Pro- 
fessor, and  hid  it  under  my  books.  But  I  was  allured 
to  go  on,  it  became  my  pride  to  master  the  art.  When 
at  last  I  had  done  so,  it  was  a  pleasure  to  me  to  make 
use  of  it.  It  was  less  for  the  gain  than  for  the  supe- 
riority it  gave  me." 

"It   is  easy,"  replied   the   Professor,  "to  deceive 


THE  MAGISTER' s  EXIT.  459 

men  of  our  sort  where  they  are  accustomed  to  place 
firm  confidence.  Where  the  acuteness  that  we  acquire 
in  our  work  is  not  brought  into  play,  many  of  us  are 
like  children,  and  he  who  is  colder  and  wishes  to  de- 
ceive may  easily  for  a  time  play  with  us.  It  is  a  weak 
glory  to  exercise  the  art  of  Satan  against  the  innocent. " 

"  I  knew  that  it  was  a  devil  with  whom  I  was  deal- 
ing ;  I  knew  it  from  the  first  day,  Professor,  but  I 
could  not  guard  myself  from  him.  Thus  it  was,"  con- 
cluded Knips,  seating  himself  exhausted  on  the  chest. 

"Thus  it  was,  Magister,"  exclaimed  Werner,  rais- 
ing himself  up;  "but  thus  it  cannot  remain.  You 
were  one  of  us,  you  can  no  longer  be  so.  You  have 
done  an  injury  to  the  highest  good  which  is  granted 
to  the  race  of  man — the  honor  of  learning.  You  your- 
self knew  that  he  who  endangers  this  honor  is  a  mortal 
enemy  to  our  souls.  In  our  realm,  where  error  daily 
threatens  the  limited  powers  of  individuals,  the  de- 
termination to  be  true  is  a  preliminary  which  none 
can  be  wanting  in,  without  involving  others  in  his 
own  destruction." 

"  I  was  only  an  assistant,"  sighed  Knips,  "and 
few  cared  about  me.  If  others  had  esteemed  me  as  a 
scholar  it  would  not  have  happened." 

"You  considered  yourself  so,  and  you  had  a  right 
to  do  so,"  rejoined  the  Professor.  "You  felt  the 
pride  of  your  learning,  and  you  well  knew  your  high 
vocation.  You  well  knew  that  you  also,  the  humble 
Magister,  had  your  share  in  the  priestly  office  and  in 
the  princely  office  of  our  realm.  No  purple  is  nobler, 
no  rule  is  more  sovereign  than  ours.  We  lead  the 
souls  of  our  nation  from  one  century  to  another ;  and 
ours  is  the  duty  of  watching  over  its  learning  and  over 
its  thoughts.  We  are  its  champions  against  the  lies 


460  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

and  spirits  of  a  past  time  which  wander  amongst  us 
clothed  with  the  semblance  of  life.  What  we  conse- 
crate, lives ;  and  what  we  condemn,  passes  away. 
The  old  virtues  of  the  Apostles  are  required  of  us — 
to  esteem  little  what  is  earthly,  and  to  proclaim  the 
truth.  You  were  in  this  sense  consecrated,  like  every 
one  of  us ;  your  life  was  pledged  to  God.  On  you,  as 
on  all  of  us,  lay  the  responsibility  for  the  souls  of  our 
nation.  You  have  proved  yourself  unworthy  of  this 
office,  and  I  grieve,  I  grieve,  wretched  man,  that  I 
must  separate  you  from  it." 

The  Magister  jumped  up,  and  looked  imploringly 
at  the  Scholar. 

The  Professor  spoke  impressively  : 
'  It  is  my  duty  both  towards  you  and  others  to 
speak  out.  What  you  have  done  to  my  fellow  pro- 
fessors, and  what  you  have  prepared  for  similar  at- 
tempts, cannot  remain  secret.  Honorable  men  must 
be  warned  against  the  art  which  you  have  been  led 
by  a  demon  to  exercise.  But  in  this  last  hour  in  which 
you  stand  before  me,  I  feel  that  I  have  done  too  little 
to  help  you  against  temptation.  Without  intending  to 
be  unkind,  I  have  perhaps  sometimes  undervalued 
you,  in  comparison  with  others,  and  have  forgotten 
how  hard  was  your  daily  life.  If  you  have  ever  felt 
depressed  and  embittered  by  my  severity,  I  now  atone 
for  it.  For  when  I,  short-sighted,  erring  man,  ad- 
vised you  to  accept  a  position  which  was  to  raise  you 
out  of  external  need,  I  participated  in  your  guilt,  by  ex- 
posing you  to  new  temptation  here.  That  gives  me  bit- 
ter pain,  Magister,  and  I  feel  the  anguish  of  this  hour." 

Magister  Knips  sat  exhausted  and  cowering  on  the 
chest :  the  Scholar  stood  over  him,  and  his  words  sank 
like  blows  on  the  Magister's  head. 


THE  MAGISTER'S  EXIT.  461 

"  I  cannot  conceal  the  fact,  Magister,  that  you  are 
a  forger ;  you  can  never  again  move  in  our  circle  ; 
your  career  is  closed  by  your  transgression,  you  are 
lost  to  learning,  lost  to  all  who  took  an  interest  in  your 
work.  You  have  vanished  from  the  place  which  you 
held  amongst  us  ;  nothing  remains  but  a  black  shadow. 
Human  powers  laboriously  trained,  a  spirit  of  uncom- 
mon acuteness  and  fullness,  are  lost  and  dead  to  us ; 
and  I  mourn  over  you  as  over  a  dead  man." 

The  Scholar  wept,  and  Knips  covered  his  face  with 
his  hands.  Werner  hastened  to  his  writing-table. 

"  If  you  require  means  to  maintain  your  ruined  life 
in  some  other  neighborhood,  here  it  is.  Take  what 
you  require." 

He  threw  some  money  on  the  table. 

"Try  to  conceal  yourself  where  no  member  of  our 
community  will  meet  you.  May  all  the  good  become 
your  portion,  which  is  still  possible  for  you  to  have 
on  earth.  But  fly,  Magister  ;  avoid  those  places  where 
one  shall  think  of  you  with  the  sorrow  and  repugnance 
that  the  faithful  workman  feels  towards  one  who  is 
untrue." 

Knips  rose ;  his  face  was  paler  than  usual,  and  he 
looked  distractedly  about  him. 

"I  need  no  money,"  he  said,  with  faint  voice;  "I 
have  enough  for  my  journey.  I  beg  of  the  Professor 
to  care  for  my  mother." 

The  Scholar  turned  away,  the  strong  man  sobbed. 
Magister  Knips  went  to  the  door;  there  he  stopped. 

"I  have  the  Homer  of  1488;  tell  my  mother  to 
give  you  the  book.  Though  the  thought  of  me  be 
painful,  yet  keep  the  book.  It  was  a  treasure  to  me." 

The  Magister  closed  the  door  and  went  slowly  out 
of  the  house.  The  wind  drove  through  the  streets  ; 


462  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

it  blew  against  the  back  of  the  Magister,  and  hastened 
his 'steps. 

"It  drives,"  murmured  Knips  again;  "it  drives 
me  onward." 

At  the  open  square  he  remained  standing  in  the 
wind  ;  looking  towards  the  clouds,  which  were  passing 
in  hasty  flight  beneath  the  moon.  Distorted  figures 
hovered  in  the  grey  vapor  and  glided  over  his  head. 
He  thought  of  the  last  proof  sheets  which  he  had  read 
in  his  native  town,  and  spoke  some  Greek  words  ;  they 
were  verses  from  the  Eumenides  of  ^Eschylus  : — 

"  Rush  on  1  rush  on  !  rush  on  !  ye  messengers  of  vengeance  !" 

He  went  up  to  the  castle,  and  remained  standing 
before  the  lighted  windows ;  the  four  black  steeds 
which  brought  the  Sovereign  back  from  the  tower 
castle  to  the  city  dashed  past  him,  and  he  clenched 
his  bony  fist  at  the  carriage.  He  then  ran  round  the 
castle  to  the  park  side.  There,  against  a  tree,  beneath 
the  windows  of  the  Sovereign's  apartment,  he  cowered ; 
looked  up  to  the  castle,  and  again  raised  his  fist 
against  the  lord  of  it,  and  sighed.  He  looked  up  at 
the  dark  boughs  that  towered  over  him,  gazed  at  the 
sky  and  the  grey  flitting  shadows  which  coursed  along 
under  the  moon,  and  desperate  thoughts  passed  through 
his  mind  : 

"When  the  moon  vanishes  that  will  be  a  token  to 
me  also." 

He  looked  long  at  the  moon.  Amidst  his  wild 
thoughts  a  Latin  sentence  entered  his  confused  brain: 
"  'The  moon  and  the  earth  are  but  as  little  points  in 
the  universe;'  that  is  beautifully  said  by  Ammianus 
Marcellinus.  I  have  compared  the  manuscripts  of 
this  Roman  ;  I  have  made  conjectures  on  all  sides  with 
respect  to  his  mutilated  text;  I  have  pored  for  years 


THE  MAGISTER'S  EXIT.  463 

over  him.  If  I  do  here,  in  order  to  vex  this  ignorant 
lord,  what  was  done  to  Haman,  all  this  preparation 
for  my  Roman  would  be  lost." 

He  rushed  from  under  the  trees  and  ran  to  his 
dwelling.  There  he  collected  all  his  possessions,  put 
his  small  copy  of  Ammianus  into  his  pocket,  and 
hastened  with  his  bundle  to  the  gate. 

They  say  he  went  to  the  same  country  to  which 
his  brother  had  gone  before  him — far  off  in  the  West. 

He  passed  away,  he  hid  his  head — an  unfaithful 
servant,  and  at  the  same  time  a  victim  of  science.  All  his 
life  long  he  had  pondered  over  written  words  ;  now  the 
living  words,  which  penetrated  from  another  soul  into 
his,  drove  him  from  his  home.  Day  and  night  he  had 
been  surrounded  with  the  letters  of  books  and  learned 
writings  which  had  flowed  from  the  pen  on  to  the 
white  sheets  ;  but  the  blessing  of  living  words  which 
pass  from  the  mouth  to  the  ear,  and  echo  from  heart 
to  heart,  had  failed  him  at  the  right  time ;  for  what  is 
in  common  use  with  us  is  also  our  highest  boon.  Its 
power  is  as  mysterious  to  us  to-day  as  it  was  to  our 
ancestors ;  the  generation  of  our  literary  period,  ac- 
customed to  contemplate  tones  in  their  imaginations, 
and  to  estimate  the  powers  of  nature  by  measure  and 
weight,  seldom  think  how  powerfully  the  echoing 
word  from  the  human  heart  rules  within  us ;  it  is 
mistress  and  servant,  it  elevates  and  annihilates  us, 
it  produces  disease  and  health.  Happy  the  living 
being  in  whose  ear  it  sounds  full  and  pure,  who  in- 
cessantly receives  the  soft  sound  of  love  and  the 
hearty  call  of  friendship.  He  who  is  deprived  of  the 
blessing  of  the  conversation  which  flows  from  warm 
hearts,  wanders  among  others  as  a  living  being  in 
whom  the  spirit  is  separated  from  the  body,  or  like  a 


464  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

book  that  one  opens,  makes  use  of,  and  puts  away  at 
pleasure.  The  Magister  had  sinned  by  the  written 
word  ;  a  cry  of  agony  uttered  by  a  human  voice  had 
frightened  him  into  the  misty  and  silent  distance. 

CHAPTER  XXXIX. 
BEFORE    THE    CRISIS. 

THE  cattle  lowed  and  the  sheep-bells  tinkled,  and 
the  springing  blades  of  wheat  waved  in  the  wind.  The 
eldest  daughter  of  the  family  was  again  walking  in  the 
garden,  surrounded  by  her  brothers  and  sisters. 
What  has  become  of  the  glad  brightness  of  your  eye 
and  the  hearty  child's  laugh,  Lady  Use  ?  Your  coun- 
tenance has  become  serious  and  your  demeanor  sub- 
dued ;  your  looks  scan  critically  the  men  about  you 
and  the  paths  that  you  tread,  and  calm  commands 
sound  from  your  lips.  Your  home  has  not  made  your 
heart  light,  nor  given  you  back  again  what  you  lost 
among  strangers. 

But  it  zealously  exercises  its  right  to  be  loved  by 
you  and  to  show  you  love  ;  it  recalls  familiar  images 
to  your  soul,  and  old  recollections  awake  at  every 
step  ;  the  people  whom  you  fostered  faithfully  in  your 
heart,  the  animals  that  you  cared  for,  and  the  trees 
that  you  planted,  greet  you,  and  labor  busily  to  cover 
with  bright  colors  what  lies  gloomily  within  you. 

The  first  evening  was  painful.  When  Use,  accom- 
panied by  her  neighbor,  entered  her  home  a  fugitive, 
striving  to  conceal  what  tormented  her,  amidst  the 
terror  of  her  father  and  the  inquisitive  questions  of 
her  brothers  and  sisters,  anger  and  dismay  once  more 
threw  their  black  shadows  over  her.  But  on  the 
breast  of  her  father,  under  the  roof  of  a  secure  house, 


BEFORE    THE    CRISIS.  465 

together  with  the  feeling  of  safety,  her  old  energy 
revived,  and  she  was  able  to  conceal  from  the  eyes  of 
her  loved  ones  that  which  was  not  her  secret  alone. 

Another  painful  hour  came.  Use  was  sitting  late 
in  the  evening,  as  years  before,  on  her  chair  opposite 
her  father.  After  her  story  was  told,  the  strong  man 
looked  down  anxiously,  used  hard  words  concerning 
her  husband,  and  cursed  the  other.  When  he  told 
her  that  even  in  her  father's  house  danger  threatened 
her,  when  he  desired  her  to  be  cautious  at  every  step, 
and  when  he  told  her  that  in  her  childhood  there  had 
been  a  dark  rumor  that  a  maiden  from  the  house  on 
the  rock,  a  child  of  a  former  possessor,  had  been  the 
victim  of  a  distinguished  prince,  she  raised  her  hands 
to  heaven.  Her  father  seized  them  and  drew  her 
towards  him. 

"We  are  wrong  to  forget  in  an  uncertain  future 
how  mercifully  Providence  has  guarded  you.  I  hold 
you  by  the  hand  and  you  stand  on  the  soil  of  your 
home.  We  must  do  what  the  day  requires,  and  trust 
everything  else  to  a  higher  Being.  As  for  the  talk 
of  strangers  we  care  not ;  they  are  weather-cocks.  Be 
calm  and  have  confidence." 

The  younger  children  chattered  innocently ;  they 
asked  about  the  charming  life  at  the  capital,  they 
wished  to  know  accurately  what  their  sister  had  gone 
through,  and  above  all  how  the  Sovereign  of  the  coun- 
try had  treated  Use,  he  whom  they  thought  of  as  a 
holy  Christ,  as  the  unwearied  dispenser  of  joy  and 
happiness.  But  the  elder  ones  were  more  cautious  in 
their  language  without  exactly  knowing  why,  with  that 
kind  of  natural  tact  which  children  show  towards 
those  whom  they  love.  Use  accompanied  her  sister 
Clara  through  the  upper  floor,  they  arranged  the  room 


466  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

for  the  guests  who  were  expected,  and  placed  an  im- 
mense bunch  of  flowers  in  the  room  which  Mr.  Hum- 
mel was  to  occupy.  Her  brothers  took  her  through  the 
kitchen-garden  into  the  narrow  valley,  and  showed  her 
the  new  wooden  bridge  over  the  water  to  the  grotto, 
which  their  father  had  built  as  a  surprise  for  Use.  Use 
passed  by  the  swollen  brook,  the  water  rushed  yellow 
and  muddy  over  the  rocks,  it  had  overflowed  the  small 
strip  of  meadow  by  its  banks  and  flowed  in  a  strong 
stream  down  the  valley  to  the  town.  Use  sought  the 
place  where  she  once,  under  the  foliage  and  wild 
plants,  lay  concealed,  when  she  read  in  the  eyes  of  her 
Felix  the  acknowledgement  of  his  love.  This  cosy 
nook  was  also  flooded  ;  the  stream  ran  muddily  over  it, 
the  flowers  were  broken  down  and  washed  away,  the 
alder  bushes  covered  to  their  upper  branches,  and 
reeds  and  discolored  foam  hung  round  them  :  only  the 
white  stem  of  a  birch  rose  out  of  the  devastation,  and 
the  flood  whirled  round  its  lowest  branches. 

"The  flood  is  passing  away,"  said  Use,  sadly;  "in 
a  few  days  the  ground  will  again  be  visible,  and  where 
the  verdure  has  been  injured  the  mild  rays  of  the  sun 
will  soon  restore  it.  But  how  will  it  be  with  me  ?  There 
is  no  light  so  long  as  he  is  not  with  me,  and  when  I 
see  him  again  how  he  will  be  changed  ?  How  will  he, 
so  serious  and  zealous,  bear  the  cold  wind  of  adversity 
that  has  passed  through  his  life  and  mine  ?  " 

Her  father  watched  her  carefully ;  he  talked  to  her 
more  frequently  than  formerly.  Whenever  he  returned 
from  the  field  he  told  her  of  the  work  that  was  doing 
on  the  farm  ;  he  was  always  taking  care  not  to  touch 
on  thoughts  that  might  give  her  pain,  and  the  daughter 
felt  how  tender  and  loving  was  the  attention  of  the 
busy  man.  Now  he  beckoned  to  her  from  a  distance, 


BEFORE    THE    CRISIS.  467 

and  near  him  was  walking  a  thick-set  figure,  with  a 
large  head  and  comfortable  aspect. 

"Mr.  Hummel!"  exclaimed  Use,  joyfully,  and 
hastened  with  winged  footsteps  towards  him.  "  When 
will  he  come  ?  "  she  called  out,  with  eager  expectation. 

"As  soon  as  he  is  free,"  replied  Hummel. 

"Who  detains  him  there?"  said  the  wife,  looking 
sorrowful. 

Mr.  Hummel  explained.  At  his  report  the  wrinkles 
on  Use's  forehead  disappeared,  and  she  led  her  guest 
into  the  old  house.  Mr.  Hummel  looked  astonished 
at  the  tall  race  that  had  grown  up  on  the  rock  :  he 
looked  with  admiration  on  the  girls  and  respectfully  at 
the  heads  of  the  boys.  Use  did  not  to-day  forget  what 
becomes  a  good  housewife  in  welcoming  a  guest.  Mr. 
Hummel  was  happy  among  the  country  people,  and 
delighted  with  the  flowers  in  his  room ;  he  took  the 
sprightly  lad  Franz  upon  his  knee,  and  made  him  drink 
almost  too  much  out  of  his  glass.  Then  he  went  through 
the  farm  with  the  proprietor  and  Use  ;  he  was  clever 
in  his  judgment,  and  he  and  his  host  recognized  in 
each  other  sound  common  sense.  At  last  Use  asked 
him  frankly  how  he  was  pleased  with  her  home. 

"  Everything  is  magnificent,"  said  Hummel;  "the 
development  of  the  family,  their  curly  heads,  the  flow- 
ers, the  cattle,  and  the  domestic  arrangements.  Com- 
pared to  the  business  of  H.  Hummel,  it  is  like  a  gourd 
to  a  cucumber.  Everything  capacious  and  abundant, 
only  to  my  taste  there  is  too  much  straw." 

Use  was  called  aside  by  her  father. 

"The  Prince  is  preparing  to  depart.  He  has  ex- 
pressed a  wish  to  speak  to  you  first.  Will  you  see  him  ?  " 

"Not  to-day.  To-day  belongs  to  you  and  our 
guest,  but  to-morrow,"  said  Use. 


468  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

On  the  morning  of  the  day  following,  Professor 
Raschke  entered  his  friend's  room  prepared  for  the 
journey. 

"Has  the  Magister  disappeared  ?"  he  asked,  anx- 
iously. 

"He  has  done  what  he  was  obliged  to  do,"  replied 
Werner,  gloomily.  "Whatever  his  future  life  and 
fortune  may  be,  we  have  done  with  him." 

Raschke  looked  anxiously  on  the  furrowed  counte- 
nance of  his  colleague. 

"  I  should  like  to  see  you  on  the  road  to  your  wife, 
and  better  still,  with  her  on  the  road  back  to  us." 

"Have  no  doubt,  friend,  that  I  shall  seek  both 
roads  as  soon  as  I  have  a  right  to  do  so." 

"Use  counts  the  hours  till  your  return,"  said 
Raschke,  in  still  greater  anxiety  ;  "she  will  not  be  at 
rest  till  she  has  fast  hold  of  her  loved  one." 

"My  wife  has  long  been  deprived  of  rest  while 
she  was  with  me,"  said  the  Scholar,  "I  have  not 
understood  how  to  defend  her.  I  have  exposed  her 
to  the  claws  of  wild  beasts.  She  has  found  from 
strangers  the  protection  that  her  own  husband  refused 
her.  The  indifference  of  her  husband  has  wounded 
her  in  that  point  which  it  is  most  difficult  for  a  woman 
to  forgive.  I  have  become  a  mere,  impotent  dreamer," 
he  exclaimed,  "unworthy  of  the  devotion  of  this  pure 
soul,  and  I  feel  what  a  man  never  should  feel — 
ashamed  to  meet  my  excellent  wife  again."  He 
turned  his  face  away. 

"This  feeling  is  too  high-strained,  and  the  re- 
proaches that  you  angrily  make  yourself  are  too  severe. 
You  have  been  deceived  by  the  cunning  prevarication 
of  a  worldly  wise  man.  You  yourself  have  expressed 
that  it  is  ingloriously  easy  to  deceive  us  in  things  in 


BEFORE    THE    CRISIS.  469 

which  we  are  not  cleverer  than  children.  Werner, 
once  more  I  entreat  of  you  to  depart  with  me  im- 
mediately, even  though  by  another  road." 

"No,"  replied  the  Scholar,  decidedly;  "  I  have  all 
my  life  long  been  clear  in  my  relations  with  other  men. 
I  cannot  do  things  by  halves.  If  I  feel  a  liking,  the 
pressure  of  my  hand  and  the  confidence  that  I  give 
does  not  leave  a  moment's  doubt  of  the  state  of  my 
heart.  If  I  must  give  up  my  relation  to  any  one,  I 
must  have  the  reckoning  fully  closed.  I  cannot  leave 
this  place  as  a  fugitive." 

"Who  demands  that?"  asked  Raschke.  "You 
only  go  like  a  man  who  turns  his  eyes  away  from  a 
hateful  worm  that  crawls  before  him  on  the  ground." 

"  If  the  worm  has  injured  the  man,  it  is  his  duty  to 
guard  others  from  the  danger  of  like  injury,  and  if  he 
cannot  guard  others,  he  ought  to  clear  his  own  path." 

"But  if  he  incurs  new  danger  in  the  attempt?" 

"Yet  he  must  do  what  he  can  to  satisfy  himself," 
exclaimed  Werner.  "I  will  not  allow  myself  to  be 
robbed  of  the  rights  that  I  have  against  another.  I 
am  called  upon  by  the  insult  to  my  wife ;  I  am  called 
upon  by  the  ruined  life  of  a  scholar,  whom  we  both 
lament.  Say  no  more  to  me.  Friend,  my  self-respect 
has  been  severely  wounded,  and  with  reason.  I  feel 
my  weakness  with  a  bitterness  that  is  the  just  punish- 
ment for  the  pride  with  which  I  have  looked  upon 
the  life  of  others.  I  have  written  to  Struvelius,  and 
begged  his  pardon  for  having  so  arrogantly  treated 
him  in  the  uncertainty  that  once  disturbed  his  life. 
Here  is  my  letter  to  our  colleague.  I  beg  you  to  give 
it  to  him,  and  to  tell  him  that  when  we  meet  again  I 
wish  to  have  no  words  upon  the  past,  only  he  must 
know  how  bitterly  I  have  atoned  for  having  been 


470  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

severe  with  him.  But,  however  much  patience  and 
consideration  I  may  require  from  others,  I  should  lose 
the  last  thing  that  gives  me  courage  to  live,  if  I  went 
from  here  without  coming  to  a  reckoning  with  the 
lord  of  that  castle.  I  am  no  man  of  the  world  who 
has  learnt  to  conceal  his  anger  beneath  courtly 
words." 

"He  who  seeks  to  call  a  man  to  account,"  ex- 
claimed Raschke,  "should  have  the  means  of  getting 
firm  hold  of  his  opponent,  otherwise  what  should  be 
satisfaction  may  become  a  new  humiliation." 

"To  have  sought  this  satisfaction  to  the  utmost," 
replied  Werner,  "is  in  itself  a  satisfaction." 

"Werner,"  said  his  colleague,  "I  hope  that  your 
anger  and  indignation  will  not  draw  you  into  the 
thoughtless  vindictiveness  of  the  weak  fools  who  call 
a  brutal  playing  with  one's  own  life  and  that  of  others 
satisfaction." 

"  He  is  a  prince,"  said  the  Professor,  with  a  gloomy 
smile;  "I  wear  no  spurs,  and  the  last  use  I  made  of 
my  bullet  mould  was  to  crack  nuts  with  it.  How  can 
you  so  mistake  me  ?  But  there  are  things  which  must 
be  expressed.  There  is  a  healing  power  in  words ;  if 
not  for  him  who  listens  to  them,  yet  for  him  who 
speaks.  I  must  tell  him  what  I  demand  of  him.  He 
shall  feel  how  my  words  are  forced  down  into  his  joy- 
less heart.  My  speaking  out  will  make  me  free." 

"He  will  refuse  to  hear  you,"  exclaimed  Raschke. 

"I  will  do  my  best  to  speak  to  him." 

"He  has  many  means  of  preventing  you." 

"Let  him  use  them  at  his  peril,  for  he  will  thereby 
deprive  himself  of  the  advantage  of  hearing  me  without 
witnesses." 

"He  will  set  all   the  machinery  that  his  high  posi- 


BEFORE    THE    CRISIS.  471 

tion  affords  him  in  motion  against  you  ;  he  will  use  his 
power  recklessly  to  restrain  you." 

' '  1  am  no  bawling  soothsayer  who  will  attack  Caesar 
in  the  open  street,  to  warn  him  of  the  Ides  of  March. 
My  knowledge  of  what  will  humble  him  before  himself 
and  his  contemporaries,  is  my  weapon.  I  assure  you 
he  will  give  me  opportunity  to  use  it  as  I  will." 

"He  is  going  away,"  said  Raschke,  anxiously. 

"Where  can  he  go  to  that  I  cannot  follow  him?" 

"The  apprehension  that  you  will  excite  in  him  will 
drive  him  to  some  dark  deed." 

"  Let  him  do  his  worst ;  I  must  do  what  will  give 
me  peace." 

"Werner  !  "  cried  Raschke,  raising  his  hands,  "  I 
ought  not  to  leave  you  in  this  position,  and  yet  you 
make  your  friend  feel  how  powerless  his  honest  coun- 
sel is  against  your  stubborn  will." 

The  Professor  went  up  to  him  and  embraced  him. 
"Farewell,  Raschke.  As  high  as  any  man  can  stand 
in  the  esteem  of  another,  you  stand  in  mine.  Do 
not  be  angry  if,  in  this  case,  I  follow  more  the  impulse 
of  my  own  nature  than  the  mild  wisdom  of  yours. 
Give  my  greeting  to  your  wife  and  children." 

Raschke  passed  his  hands  over  his  eyes,  drew  on 
his  coat,  and  put  the  letter  to  Struvelius  in  his  pocket. 
In  doing  so  he  found  another  letter,  took  it  out,  and 
read  the  address.  "A  letter  from  my  wife  to  you," 
he  said  ;  "  How  did  it  come  into  my  pocket !" 

Werner  opened  it ;  again  a  slight  smile  passed  over 
his  face.  "Mrs.  Aurelia  begs  me  to  take  care  of  you. 
The  charge  comes  at  the  right  moment.  I  will  ac- 
company you  to  your  place  of  departure;  we  will  not 
forget  the  cap  or  cloak." 

The  Professor  conducted  his  friend  to  the  convey- 


472  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

ance ;  they  spoke  together,  up  to  the  last  moment,  of 
the  lectures  which  both  wished  to  give  in  the  ap- 
proaching term.  "  Remembermy  letter  to  Struvelius," 
were  Werner's  last  words,  when  his  friend  was  seated 
in  the  carriage. 

"I  shall  think  of  it  whenever  I  think  of  you,"  said 
Raschke,  stretching  out  his  hand  from  the  carriage. 

The  Professor  went  to  the  castle  for  a  last  conver- 
sation with  the  man  who  had  called  him  to  his  capital. 
The  household  received  him  with  embarrassed  looks. 
"The  Sovereign  is  just  starting  on  a  journey,  and  will 
not  return  for  some  days ;  we  do  not  know  where  he  is 
going,"  said  the  Intendant,  with  concern.  The  Pro- 
fessor, nevertheless,  desired  him  to  announce  him  to 
the  Sovereign,  his  request  was  urgent;  the  servant 
brought  as  an  answer  that  his  master  could  not  be 
spoken  to  before  his  return  ;  the  Professor  might  im- 
part his  wishes  to  one  of  the  aides-de-camp. 

Werner  hastened  to  the  adjacent  house  of  the  Lord 
High  Steward.  He  was  taken  into  the  library,  and 
gave  a  fleeting  glance  at  the  faded  carpet,  the  old 
hangings,  which  were  covered  with  engravings  in  dark 
frames,  and  on  the  large  bookshelves,  with  glass  doors, 
lined  within,  as  if  the  possessor  wished  to  conceal  what 
he  read  from  the  eyes  of  strangers.  The  High  Steward 
entered  hastily. 

"I  seek  for  an  interview  with  the  Sovereign  be- 
fore his  departure,"  began  the  Professor.  "I  beg  of 
your  Excellence  to  procure  me  this  audience." 

"Pardon  my  asking  you  your  object,"  said  the 
High  Steward.  "Do  you  wish  again  to  speak  to  a 
sufferer  concerning  his  disease?" 

"The  diseased  man  administers  a  high  office,  and 
has  the  power  and  rights  of  a  healthy  one ;  he  is  an- 


BEFORE    THE    CRISIS.  473 

swerable  to  his  fellow-men  for  his  deeds.  I  consider 
it  a  duty  not  to  go  from  here  without  informing  him 
that  he  is  no  longer  in  a  condition  to  perform  the  duties 
of  his  position." 

The  Lord  High  Steward  looked  with  astonishment 
at  the  Scholar. 

"  Do  you  insist  on  this  interview  ?  " 

"What  I  have  learned  since  my  return  here  from 
the  country  compels  me  to  do  so ;  I  must  seek  this  in- 
terview by  every  possible  means  in  my  power,  what- 
ever may  be  the  consequences." 

"Even  the  consequences  to  yourself?" 

"Even  these.  After  all  that  has  passed,  the  Sov- 
ereign cannot  refuse  to  hear  me  speak  before  I  go." 

"What  he  ought  not  to  do  he  will  yet  try  to  do." 

"  He  will  do  it  at  his  peril,"  replied  the  Professor. 

The  High  Steward  placed  himself  in  front  of  the 
Professor,  and  said,  impressively : 

"The  Sovereign  is  going  to  Rossau  to-day.  The 
plan  is  secret.  I  accidentally  learnt  the  orders  which 
were  given  at  the  princely  stables." 

The  Scholar  started. 

"I  thank  your  Excellence  from  my  heart  for  this 
communication, "  he  exclaimed,  with  forced  composure. 
"  I  will  endeavor  to  send  a  speedy  warning  beforehand. 
I  shall  not  start,  myself,  till  your  Excellence  has  sec- 
onded my  efforts  to  speak  to  the  Sovereign  before 
his  journey." 

"If  you  seek  an  audience  through  me,"  said  the 
High  Steward,  after  some  consideration,  "I  will,  as 
an  officer  of  the  Court,  and  from  personal  esteem  for 
you,  immediately  convey  your  wish  to  the  Sovereign. 
But  I  will  not  conceal  from  you,  Professor,  that  I  con- 


474  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

sider  a  criticism  from  you  upon  past  events  as  very 
risky  in  every  point  of  view." 

"But  I  am  thoroughly  impressed  with  the  convic- 
tion that  the  criticism  must  be  made,"  exclaimed  the 
Professor. 

"To  the  Sovereign  alone,  or  before  others ?  "  asked 
the  High  Steward. 

"If  the  ears  and  mind  of  the  Sovereign  remain 
closed,  then  before  the  world.  I  shall  thus  fulfil  an 
imperative  duty  to  all  who  might  suffer  from  the  dark 
fancies  of  this  disordered  mind  ;  a  duty  from  which  I,  as 
an  honest  man,  cannot  escape.  If  calm  remonstrance 
will  not  move  him,  I  shall  publicly  arraign  him  before 
the  rulers  and  people  of  our  nation.  For  it  is  not  to 
be  borne  that  the  conditions  of  ancient  Rome  should 
again  rise  to  life  among  our  people." 

"That  is  decisive,"  replied  the  High  Steward. 

He  went  to  his  bureau,  took  out  a  document,  and 
presented  it  to  the  Scholar. 

"Read  this.  Will  you  renounce  a  personal  inter- 
view with  the  Sovereign  if  this  paper  is  signed  by  his 
hand?" 

The  Professor  read,  and  bowed  to  the  High  Steward. 

"As  soon  as  he  ceases  to  be  what  he  has  been,  I 
shall  consider  him  merely  as  an  afflicted  man  ;  in 
this  case  my  interview  with  him  would  be  useless. 
Meanwhile  I  repeat  my  request  to  procure  an  audience 
before  the  Sovereign's  departure." 

The  High  Steward  took  back  the  document. 

"I  will  endeavor  to  act  as  your  representative. 
But  do  not  forget  that  the  Sovereign  travels  to  Rossau 
in  another  hour.  If  we  ever  see  each  other  again,  Mr. 
Werner,"  concluded  the  old  lord,  solemnly,  "may 
both  our  hearts  be  free  from  anxiety  about  that  which 


BEFORE    THE    CRISIS.  475 

sometimes  one  esteems  lightly,  as  you  do  at  this  mo- 
ment, but  which  one  does  not  willingly  allow  one's  self 
to  be  robbed  of  by  the  intervention  of  another. " 

The  Professor  hastened  to  the  inn  and  called  for 
his  servant. 

"Show  me  your  fidelity  to-day,  Gabriel:  none  but 
a  messenger  on  horseback  can  arrive  at  Bielstein  in 
time.  Do  your  best,  take  courier's  horses,  and  put  a 
letter  into  the  hands  of  my  wife  before  the  Court  car- 
riages arrive  there." 

"At  your  command,  Professor,"  said  Gabriel,  with 
a  military  salute,  "  it  is  a  hard  ride  even  for  a  hussar  ; 
if  I  am  not  detained  in  changing  horses,  I  trust  to  be 
able  to  deliver  the  letter  in  due  time." 

The  Professor  wrote  in  haste,  and  despatched  Ga- 
briel; then  he  returned  to  the  dwelling  of  the  High 
Steward. 


The  Sovereign  was  lying  wearily  on  his  sofa,  his 
cheeks  pale  and  his  eyes  dim — a  thoroughly  sick  man. 

"I  had  formerly  other  thoughts,  and  could,  when 
I  had  touched  the  keys,  play  more  than  one  melody; 
now  everything  changes  itself  into  a  discordant  meas- 
ure :  she  has  gone,  she  is  in  the  neighborhood  of  the 
boy,  she  laughs  at  her  foolish  wooer.  I  see  nothing 
before  me  but  the  track  on  the  high  road  that  leads  to 
her.  A  strange  power  eternally  strikes  the  same  notes 
within  me,  a  dark  shadow  stands  near  me  and  points 
with  its  finger  incessantly  to  the  same  path;  I  cannot 
control  myself,  I  hear  the  words,  I  see  the  road,  I  feel 
the  dark  hand  over  my  head." 

The  servant  announced  the  High  Steward. 

"I   will  not  see  him, "  said   the   Sovereign,  impe- 


476  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

riously.      "Tell  his  Excellence  that  I  am  on  the  point 
of  departing  for  the  country." 

'  His  Excellence  begs  admittance,"  it  is  a  question 
of  an  urgent  signature." 

"The  old  fool,"  murmured  the  Sovereign,  "usher 
him  in." 

"  I  am  unfortunately  much  pressed  for  time,  your 
Excellence,"  he  called  out  to  him,  as  he  entered. 

"1  do  not  wish  to  make  a  long  demand  upon  the 
time  of  my  most  Serene  Lord,"  began  the  courtier. 
"Prof.  Werner  begs  that  your  Highness  will  consent 
to  receive  him  before  his  departure." 

"What  is  the  cause  of  this  importunity?"  ex- 
claimed the  Sovereign ;  "he  has  already  been  here, 
and  I  have  refused  him." 

"I  must  be  permitted  to  make  the  respectful  re- 
mark that  after  all  that  has  passed,  the  honor  of  a  per- 
sonal interview  cannot  well  be  refused  him.  Your 
Highness  would  be  the  last  to  approve  of  so  marked  a 
violation  of  seemly  considerations." 

The  Sovereign  looked  vindictively  at  the  High 
Steward. 

"All  the  same,  I  will  not  see  him." 

"Besides  these  considerations,  it  is  not  advisable 
to  refuse  this  interview,"  continued  the  old  lord,  with 
emphasis. 

"Of  that  I  am  the  best  judge,"  replied  the  Sov- 
ereign, carelessly. 

"This  person  has  become  privy  to  certain  things, 
the  exposure  of  which,  for  the  sake  of  the  princely 
dignity,  must  be  avoided,  even  at  a  heavy  sacrifice, 
for  he  is  not  bound  to  keep  the  secret." 

"  No  one  will  listen  to  an  individual,  and  a  dreamer 
at  that." 


BEFORE    THE    CRISIS.  477 

"What  he  will  divulge  will  not  only  be  believed, 
but  will  excite  a  storm  against  your  Highness." 

"Gossip  from  bookworms  will  not  hurt  me." 

"This  person  is  a  highly-respected  man  of  char- 
acter, and  will  use  his  observations  to  demand  of  the 
whole  civilized  world  that  the  possibility  of  similar 
occurrences  at  this  Court  should  be  made  impossible." 

"Let  him  do  what  he  dare,"  cried  the  Sovereign, 
with  an  outbreak  of  fury,  "we  shall  know  how  to  pro- 
tect ourselves." 

"The  exposure  may  yet  be  guarded  against;  but 
there  is  only  one  last  and  radical  remedy." 

"Speak  out,  your  Excellence ;  I  have  always  re- 
spected your  judgment." 

' '  What  inflames  the  Professor, "  continued  the  cour- 
tier, cautiously,  "will  become  generally  known  ;  at  all 
events  it  will  produce  a  great  sensation  and  dangerous 
scandal ;  nothing  further.  It  was  a  personal  observa- 
tion only  that  he  was  compelled  to  make  at  the  foot  of 
the  tower ;  it  was  a  conjecture  only  which  he  gave  vent 
to  beneath  the  same  tower.  According  to  his  assertion, 
two  attempts  have  been  made,  and  yet  neither  has  been 
followed  by  evil  consequences.  To  be  able  to  provoke 
the  public  judgment  of  the  civilized  world  on  such 
grounds  is  doubtful.  However  upright  the  narrator 
may  be,  he  may  himself  have  been  deceived.  Your 
Highness  remarks  rightly  that  the  irritation  of  a  single 
scholar  would  occasion  disagreeable  gossip,  nothing 
further." 

"Most  admirable,  your  Excellence,"  interrupted 
the  Sovereign. 

"Unfortunately  there  is  one  important  circum- 
stance that  I  have  not  yet  added.  With  respect  to 
that  personal  observation  at  the  foot  of  the  tower,  the 


478  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

Scholar  has  a  witness,  and  /  am  that  witness.  When 
he  calls  upon  me  for  my  testimony  and  speaks  of  my 
personal  observation,  I  must  declare  that  he  is  right, 
for  I  am  not  accustomed  to  consider  half-truth  as  truth. " 

The  Sovereign  started. 

"It  was  I  who  restrained  the  hand,"  remarked  the 
courtier;  "  and  because  that  simple  scholar  is  in  the 
right,  and  because  I  must  confirm  his  views  concerning 
the  state  of  my  gracious  master's  health,  I  tell  you 
there  is  only  one  last  and  radical  remedy."  The  High 
Steward  took  the  document  out  of  the  portfolio.  "  My 
remedy  is,  that  your  Highness  should,  by  a  great  re- 
solve, anticipate  the  storm,  and  high-mindedly  consent 
to  make  this  declaration  the  expression  of  your  will." 

The  Sovereign  cast  a  look  on  the  paper,  and  flung 
it  away  from  him  : 

"Are  you  mad,  old  man  ?  " 

"Insanity  has  not  yet  been  discovered  in  me,"  re- 
plied the  High  Steward,  sorrowfully.  "  If  my  gracious 
master  would  but  weigh  the  circumstances  with  his 
usual  acuteness  !  It  has  unfortunately  become  impos- 
sible for  your  Highness  to  carry  on  the  duties  of  your 
high  calling  in  the  way  you  have  hitherto  done.  Even 
if  your  Highness  considered  it  possible,  your  faithful 
servants  are  in  the  painful  position  of  not  partaking 
of  this  opinion." 

"These  faithful  servants   are  my  High  Steward  ?" 

"  I  am  one  of  them.  If  your  Highness  will  not  con- 
sent to  give  your  princely  approbation  to  this  project, 
consideration  for  that  which  is  dearer  to  me  than  your 
Highness's  favor  will  forbid  my  remaining  in  your 
service." 

"I  repeat  the  question,  have  you  become  insane, 
Lord  High  Steward  ?" 


BEFORE    THE    CRISIS.  479 

"Only  deeply  moved  ;  I  did  not  think  that  I  would 
ever  have  to  choose  between  my  honor  and  my  service 
to  your  Highness." 

He  took  out  another  document  from  the  portfolio. 

"Your  resignation,"  exclaimed  the  Sovereign, 
reading.  "You  should  have  added  to  it,  'with  per- 
mission.'" The  Sovereign  seized  the  pen.  "Here, 
Baron  von  Ottenburg,  you  are  released  from  your 
office." 

"  It  is  no  joyful  thanks  that  I  express  to  your  High- 
ness for  it.  But  now  it  is  done,  I,  Hans  von  Otten- 
burg, express  to  you  my  respectful  request  that  your 
Highness  would  still,  at  this  hour,  be  pleased  to  sign 
the  other  document.  For  in  case  your  Highness 
should  hesitate  to  fulfil  the  earnest  entreaties  of  a 
former  servant,  this  same  request,  from  now  on, 
will  be  forced  upon  your  Highness's  ear  in  many 
ways,  and  by  persons  who  would  not  use  so  much  con- 
sideration for  your  Highness  as  I  have  hitherto  done. 
Till  now  there  has  been  one  who  has  begged  of  you, 
a  professor, — now  there  are  two,  he  and  I, — in  an- 
other hour  the  number  will  become  burdensome  to 
your  Highness." 

"A  former  High  Steward,  a  rebel  !" 

"Only  a  petitioner.  It  is  your  Highness's  right, 
of  your  own  free  will,  to  make  the  high  decision  to 
which  I  endeavor  to  influence  you.  But  I  beg  you 
once  more  to  consider  that  it  can  no  longer  be  avoided. 
Your  Highness's  Court  will,  in  the  next  hour,  be 
brought  front  to  front  with  the  same  alternative 
as  myself ;  for  my  regard  for  the  honor  of  these 
gentlemen  and  ladies  will  compel  me,  on  the  same 
grounds  which  have  led  to  my  decision,  not  to  be 
silent  with  respect  to  them.  Without  doubt,  the  gen- 


480  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

tlemen  of  the  Court  will,  like  me,  approach  your 
Highness  with  earnest  entreaties,  and,  like  me,  will 
resign  in  case  their  entreaties  are  unsuccessful,  and 
without  doubt  your  Highness  will  have  to  find  new 
attendants.  Respect  for  the  honor  and  the  office  of 
those  who  rule  under  you  will  oblige  me  to  make 
the  same  communication  to  your  Highness's  ministers. 
True,  these  also  might  be  replaced  by  less  important 
servants  of  the  State.  But  further,  from  loyalty  and 
devotion  to  your  Highness's  house,  from  anxiety  about 
the  life  and  welfare  of  the  Hereditary  Prince  and  his 
illustrious  sister,  as  well  as  from  attachment  to  this 
country  in  which  I  have  grown  gray,  I  see  myself 
obliged  to  appeal  to  every  Government  connected  with 
ours  for  an  energetic  enforcement  of  this  my  request. 
As  long  as  I  was  a  servant  of  the  Court,  my  oath  and 
allegiance  compelled  me  to  silence  and  careful  regard 
for  your  Highness's  personal  interests.  I  am  now  re- 
lieved from  this  obligation,  and  I  shall  from  henceforth 
advocate  the  interests  of  our  people  in  opposition  to 
those  of  your  Highness.  Your  Highness  may  yourself 
judge  what  that  would  lead  to ;  this  signature  may 
be  put  off,  but  can  no  longer  be  avoided.  Every  de- 
lay makes  the  situation  worse ;  the  signing  will  no 
longer  appear  as  the  voluntary  act  of  a  high-minded 
decision,  but  as  a  necessity  forced  upon  you.  Finally, 
let  your  Highness  bear  in  mind  that  the  Professor  has 
made  in  the  Tower  Castle  another  important  observa- 
tion,— another  with  respect  to  the  conduct  of  a  certain 
Magister ;  it  is  my  destiny  to  know  much  which  does 
not  belong  to  the  secrets  of  my  department." 

The  Sovereign  lay  on  his  sofa,  with  his  head  turned 
away.  He  folded  his  hands  before  his  face.  A  long  op- 
pressive silence  intervened. 


BEFORE    THE    CRISIS.  481 

"You  have  been  my  personal  enemy  from  the  first 
day  of  my  reign,"  suddenly  put  in  the  Sovereign. 

"I  have  been  the  faithful  servant  of  my  gracious 
master ;  personal  friendship  has  never  been  my  por- 
tion, and  I  have  never  simulated  it." 

"You  have  always  intrigued  against  me." 

"Your  Highness  well  knows  that  I  have  served 
you  as  a  man  of  honor,"  replied  the  Baron,  proudly. 
"Now,  also,  when  once  more  I  beg  of  you  to  sign  this 
document,  I  do  not  stand  upon  the  right  which  many 
years  of  confidence  give  me  with  your  Highness  ;  I  do 
not  advance  as  an  excuse  for  this  repeated  importu- 
nity the  interest  that  I  have  been  entitled  to  take  in 
the  dignity  and  welfare  of  this  princely  house ;  I  have 
another  ground  for  relieving  your  Highness  from  the 
humiliation  of  a  public  discussion  of  your  Highness's 
state  of  mind.  I  am  a  loyal  and  monarchically-minded 
man.  He  who  has  respect  for  the  high  office  of  a 
prince  is  under  the  urgent  necessity  of  guarding  this 
office  from  being  lowered  in  the  eyes  of  the  nation. 
This  he  must  do,  not  by  concealing  what  is  insupport- 
able, but  by  extirpating  it.  Therefore,  since  that 
scene  in  the  tower,  there  has  been  this  struggle  be- 
tween me  and  your  Highness,  that  I,  in  order  to  main- 
tain your  Highness's  exalted  office,  must  sacrifice 
your  Highness's  person.  I  am  determined  to  do  so, 
and  there  consequently  only  remains  to  your  Highness 
the  choice  of  doing  that  which  is  inevitable,  of  your 
own  free  will,  and  honorably  in  the  eyes  of  the  world,  or 
dishonorably  and  at  the  instance  of  importunate 
strangers.  The  words  are  spoken ;  I  beg  for  a  speedy 
decision." 

The  old  lord  stood  close  before  the  ruler.  He  looked 
firmly  and  coldly  into  the  restless  eyes  of  his  former 


482  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

master,  and  pointed  with  his  finger  fixedly  to  the 
parchment.  It  was  the  keeper  conquering  the  patient. 

"Not  now — not  here,"  exclaimed  the  Sovereign, 
beside  himself.  "  In  the  presence  of  the  Hereditary 
Prince  I  will  take  counsel  and  come  to  a  decision." 

"The  presence  and  signature  of  your  ministers  are 
necessary  for  the  document,  not  the  presence  of  the 
Hereditary  Prince.  But  as  your  Highness  prefers 
signing  in  the  presence  of  the  Prince,  I  will  do  my 
self  the  honor  of  following  your  Highness  to  Rossau, 
and  beg  one  of  the  ministers  to  accompany  me  for  this 
object." 

The  Sovereign  looked  reflectively  down. 

"I  am  still  a  ruler,"  he  exclaimed,  springing  up; 
and  seizing  the  signed  resignation  of  the  High  Steward, 
he  tore  it  up.  "High  Steward  von  Ottenburg,  you 
will  accompany  me  in  my  carriage  to  Rossau." 

"Then  the  minister  will  follow  your  Highness  in 
my  carriage,"  said  the  old  lord,  calmly.  "I  hasten  to 
inform  him." 

CHAPTER  XL. 
ON  THE  ROAD  TO  THE  ROCK. 

TOWARDS  the  quiet  country  town  which  pious  col- 
onists had  once  built  about  the  monastery  walls  of  pray- 
ing monks,  and  towards  the  rock  on  which  the  heathen 
maiden  had  once  whispered  oracles  to  her  race,  were 
now  hastening  along  different  roads  horses  and  wheels, 
together  with  living  men  who  were  seeking  the  de- 
cision of  their  fate ;  here  joyful,  rising  hopes — there 
downward,  declining  powers ;  here  the  pure  dream  of 
enthusiastic  youth — there  the  destructive  dream  of  a 
gloomy  spirit.  In  the  valley  and  over  the  rock  hov- 


ON  THE  ROAD  TO  THE  ROCK.          483 

ered  the  spirits  of  the  country ;  they  prepared  them- 
selves to  receive  the  flying  strangers  with  the  hospi- 
tality of  home. 

The  early  dawn  sent  its  pale  glimmer  into  Laura's 
study  ;  she  stood  by  her  writing-table,  and  cast  a  lin- 
gering look  on  the  familiar  book  in  which,  with  rapid 
hand,  she  had  written  the  concluding  words.  She  fast- 
ened the  book  and  the  Doctor's  poems  together,  and 
concealed  them  under  the  cover  of  her  trunk.  She 
cast  another  look  on  the  sanctuary  of  her  maiden  life, 
and  then  flew  down  the  stairs  into  the  arms  of  her 
anxious  mother.  It  was  a  wonderful  elopement — a 
quiet  Sunday  morning,  a  mysterious  light,  gloomy  rain- 
clouds,  contrasting  strongly  with  the  deep  red  glow  of 
morning.  Laura  lay  long  in  the  arms  of  her  weeping 
mother,  till  Susan  urged  her  departure;  then  she 
passed  into  the  street,  where  the  Doctor  awaited  her, 
and  hastened  with  him  into  the  carriage ;  for  the  car- 
riage was  ordered  to  wait  in  a  deserted  place  around 
the  corner,  and  not  before  the  house ;  upon  this  Laura 
had  insisted.  It  was  a  wonderful  elopement — a  modest, 
sedate  traveling-companion,  the  object  of  the  journey 
the  house  of  a  loved  friend,  and,  lastly,  a  large  leather 
bag  containing  cold  meat  and  other  victuals,  which 
Mrs.  Hahn  herself  carried  to  the  carriage,  in  order 
that  she  might  once  more  kiss  her  son  and  Laura,  and 
bless  them  amid  tears. 

Spitehahn  had  for  several  days  found  it  difficult  to 
bear  his  lonely  existence ;  since  the  departure  of  the 
learned  lodgers  he  had  been  much  disturbed,  but 
when  the  master  of  the  house  also  disappeared,  there 
was  no  one  to  recognize  him.  This  morning  he  cast 
cold  glances  on  Laura  as  she  hovered  round  her  sor- 
rowing mother,  and  looked  askance  at  Susan  when  she 


484  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

carried  the  great  traveling-trunk  to  the  carriage ;  then 
he  sneaked  out  into  the  street  in  order  to  give  expres- 
sion to  his  hatred  of  the  neighboring  house.  But  when 
Mrs.  Hahn  hastened  to  the  carriage  with  the  leather 
bag,  he  saw  that  something  was  wrong  and  he  crept 
after  his  neighbor  from  across  the  way  ;  and  whilst  she 
mounted  on  the  step  of  the  carriage  to  warn  her  Fritz 
of  the  sharp  morning  air,  and  to  kiss  Laura  once  more, 
he  sprang  upon  the  footboard  and  ensconced  himself 
under  the  leather  apron  of  the  coachbox,  determined 
to  abide  his  time.  The  coachman  seated  himself,  and 
supposing  the  dog  belonged  to  the  travelers,  cracked 
his  whip  and  started  off.  Another  look  and  call  to  the 
mother,  and  the  adventurous  journey  began. 

Laura's  soul  trembled  under  the  pressure  of  pas- 
sionate feelings,  which  were  called  forth  by  this  long- 
desired  but  dreaded  hour.  The  houses  of  the  city  dis- 
appeared, and  the  poplars  on  the  high  road  seemed  to 
dance  past.  She  looked  anxiously  at  her  Fritz,  and. 
placed  the  tips  of  her  fingers  in  his  hand.  He  smiled, 
and  pressed  the  little  hand  warmly. 

His  cheerfulness  was  a  support  to  her.  She  looked 
tenderly  into  his  true  face. 

"  The  morning  is  cool,  "he  began,  "allow  me  to 
fasten  your  cloak."  • 

"I  am  very  comfortable,"  replied  Laura,  again 
putting  her  trembling  hand  within  his. 

Thus  they  sat  silently  together,  the  sun  peeped 
modestly  from  behind  his  red  curtains  and  sm'iled  on 
Laura,  so  that  she  was  obliged  to  close  her  eyes.  Her 
whole  childhood  passed  before  her  in  fleeting  pictures  ; 
and  finally,  she  heard  the  significant  words  of  her 
friends  at  her  last  visit.  Her  godmother  had  said  to 
her,  Return  soon  again,  child  ;  and  Laura  now  felt 


ON  THE  ROAD  TO  THE  ROCK.          485 

with  emotion  that  this  return  was  at  an  immeasurable 
distance.  Her  other  godmother  had  kindly  asked, 
When  shall  we  see  each  other  again  ?  and  a  touching 
echo  sounded  in  Laura's  heart,  Who  knows  when  ? 
All  Nature  was  stirring  in  the  fresh  morning  :  a  flock 
of  pigeons  flew  across  the  field,  a  hare  ran  along 
the  road  as  if  racing,  a  splendid  cluster  of  blue  flowers 
grew  on  the  border  of  the  ditch,  and  red  roofs  shone 
from  among  the  fruit  trees.  Everything  on  earth 
looked  green  and  hopeful,  blooming  and  waving  in 
the  morning  breeze.  The  country  people  who  were 
going  to  the  city  met  them,  a  peasant  sitting  on  his 
waggon  smoking  his  pipe  nodded  a  good  morning  to 
Laura,  who  held  out  her  hand  as  if  she  wished  to  send 
a  greeting  to  the  whole  world.  The  milkwoman  in 
her  little  cart,  who  was  going  to  sell  her  milk,  also 
greeted  her,  saying,  "Good  morning,  Miss  Laura." 
Laura  drew  back,  and,  looking  alarmed  at  Fritz,  said  : 

"She  has  recognized  us." 

"Without  doubt,"  replied  the  Doctor,  gaily. 

"She  is  a  gossip,  Fritz;  she  cannot  hold  her 
tongue,  and  will  tell  all  the  servant- girls  in  our  street 
that  we  are  driving  together  along  this  road.  This 
distresses  me,  Fritz." 

"We  are  taking  a  drive,"  replied  the  Doctor, 
triumphantly;  "going  to  pay  a  visit  to  some  one  ;  we 
are  going  to  act  as  sponsors  together  in  the  country. 
Do  not  mind  these  trifles." 

"It  began  by  our  being  sponsors  together,  Fritz," 
answered  Laura,  tranquilized.  "It  has  all  been 
owing  to  the  cat's  paws." 

"  I  do  not  know,"  replied  Fritz,  slyly,  "whether 
this  misfortune  did  not  originate  earlier.  When  you 
were  quite  a  little  girl  I  kissed  you  once." 


486  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

"  I  do  not  remember  that,"  said  Laura. 

"It  was  for  a  basket  of  colored  beans  that  I 
brought  you  from  our  garden.  I  demanded  the  kiss, 
and  you  consented  to  give  the  price,  but  immediately 
after  wiped  your  mouth  with  your  hand.  From  that 
time  I  have  liked  you  better  than  all  others." 

"Do  not  let  us  talk  of  these  things,"  said  Laura, 
troubled ;  my  recollections  of  old  times  are  not  all  so 
harmless." 

"I  have  always  been  kept  at  a  distance,"  ex- 
claimed Fritz,  "even  to-day.  It  is  a  shame.  It  must 
not  go  on  so ;  I  must  have  some  serious  talk  about  it. 
Travelling  together  as  we  are,  it  is  not  fitting  that  we 
should  use  the  stiff  you  in  talking  to  one  another." 

Laura  looked  reproachfully  at  him.  "  Not  to-day," 
she  said,  softly. 

"It  is  of  no  use  now,"  replied  Fritz,  boldly.  "I 
will  no  longer  be  treated  as  a  stranger.  I  once  heard 
the  honest  thou  from  you,  but  never  since.  It  pains 
me." 

Laura  regretted  that.  "But  only  when  we  are 
quite  alone,"  she  entreated. 

"I  propose  it  for  all  time,"  continued  Fritz,  un- 
disturbed, "otherwise  there  will  be  continually  mis- 
takes and  confusion." 

He  offered  her  his  hand,  which  she  shook  gently, 
and  before  she  could  stop  him  she  felt  a  kiss  on  her 
lips. 

Laura  looked  at  him  tenderly,  but  then  immediately 
drew  back  and  ensconced  herself  in  a  corner  of  the 
carriage.  Fritz  was  quite  different  to-day  from  usual ; 
he  looked  confident  and  bold.  In  the  house  he 
had  always  been  modest,  while  Laura  had  more  than 
once  thought  of  this  relation,  and  had  written  in  her 


ON  THE  ROAD  TO  THE  ROCK.          487 

book:  "When  two  human  beings  are  united  in  soul 
they  ought  to  let  each  other  know  it."  Now  he  used 
little  ceremony.  He  looked  boldly  out  of  the  carriage, 
and  when  they  met  travelers  did  not  retreat  as  she 
had  done  after  meeting  the  milkwoman,  but  looked  as 
if  challenging  notice,  and  greeting  people  first. 

"I  must  begin  about  the  Hindus,"  she  said  to 
herself,  "in  order  to  turn  his  thoughts  to  other  sub- 
jects." 

She  asked  him  about  the  contents  of  the  Veda. 

"I  cannot  think  of  it  to-day,  exclaimed  Fritz,  gaily. 
"I  am  too  happy  to  think  of  the  old  books.  I  have 
only  one  thought  in  my  heart :  '  Laura,  the  dear 
girl,  will  become  mine.'  I  could  dance  in  the  car- 
riage for  joy." 

He  jumped  up  from  his  seat  like  a  little  boy. 

Fritz  was  fearfully  changed  ;  she  did  not  know  him 
again  ;  she  withheld  her  hand  from  him,  and  looked  at 
him,  suspiciously,  askance. 

"The  heavens  are  covered  with  clouds,"  she  said, 
sadly. 

"But  the  sun  shines  above  them,"  replied  Fritz; 
"it  will  come  out  again  in  a  few  minutes.  I  propose 
that  we  examine  the  great  leather  bag  which  my 
mother  gave  us ;  I  hope  there  will  be  something 
good  in  it." 

Thus  did  the  prose  of  the  Hahn  family  betray 
itself,  and  Laura  observed  with  secret  regret  how 
eagerly  the  Doctor  rummaged  the  bag.  She  had,  how- 
ever, in  her  excitement  thought  little  of  her  breakfast, 
so  when  Fritz  offered  her  some  of  its  contents  she  ex- 
tended her  little  hand  for  it,  and  both  ate  heartily. 

Something  darkened  the  seat  next  the  coachman  ; 
a  misshapen  head  showed  itself  at  the  window,  and  a 


488  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

discordant  snarl  was  heard  in  the  carriage.  Laura 
pointed  terrified  at  the  apparition. 

"Merciful  heavens,  there  is  the  dog  again  !" 

The  Doctor  also  looked  angrily  at  the  hostile  figure. 

"Drive  him  away,"  cried  Laura;  "make  him  run 
home." 

"He  will  hardly  find  his  way  back,"  replied  the 
Doctor,  thoughtfully;  "what  would  your  father  say  if 
he  were  lost  ?  " 

"He  has  been  the  enemy  of  my  life,"  exclaimed 
Laura ;  "and  must  we  now  take  him  with  us  into  the 
world?  The  idea  is  insupportable,  and  a  bad  omen, 
Fritz." 

"Perhaps  we  shall  meet  a  wagon  that  will  take 
him  back  again,"  said  the  Doctor,  consolingly ;  "mean- 
while we  must  not  let  him  starve." 

In  spite  of  his  aversion  he  handed  him  some  break- 
fast, and  the  dog  disappeared  again  under  the  apron. 

But  Laura  continued  disturbed. 

"Fritz,  dear  Fritz,"  she  exclaimed,  suddenly,  "you 
must  leave  me  alone." 

The  Doctor  looked  at  her  with  astonishment.  The 
you  was  an  orthographical  error  which  must  be  atoned 
for.  He  was  again  about  to  give  her  a  kiss,  but  she 
drew  back. 

"  If  you  love  me,  Fritz,  you  must  now  leave  me 
alone,"  she  cried  out,  wringing  her  hands. 

" How  can  I  do  that  ?  "  asked  Fritz  ;  "we  are  trav- 
eling for  good  into  the  great  world." 

"Get  upon  the  box  by  the- coachman,"  begged 
Laura,  imploringly. 

She  looked  so  serious  and  depressed  that  Fritz 
obediently  stopped  the  carriage,  descended  from  it, 
and  climbed  upon  the  coach-box.  Laura  drew  a  deep 


ON  THE  ROAD  TO  THE  ROCK.  489 

breath,  and  became  more  tranquil.  Her  words  had 
influenced  him.  Intractable  as  he  was,  he  would 
do  much  to  please  her.  She  sat  alone,  and  her 
thoughts  became  more  cheering.  The  Doctor  turned 
round  frequently,  knocked  at  the  window,  and  asked 
how  she  was.  He  was  very  tender-hearted,  and  full 
of  loving  attentions. 

"The  whole  responsibility  for  his  health  rests  on 
me,"  she  thought,  "what  hitherto  his  dear  mother  has 
done  for  him  now  becomes  my  duty.  A  delightful  duty, 
dear  Fritz.  I  will  keep  him  from  working  at  nights, 
for  his  health  is  delicate,  and  every  day  I  will  go  walk- 
ing with  him,  in  the  coldest  weather,  to  accustom  him 
to  it." 

She  looked  out  of  the  carriage,  the  wind  was  stir- 
ring the  leaves ;  she  knocked  at  the  window  : 

"Fritz,  it  is  windy,  you  have  no  shawl  on." 

•'*  I  shall  no  longer  use  one,"  called  out  the  Doctor, 
"this  effeminacy  must  be  shaken  off." 

"I  beg  of  you,  Fritz,  not  to  be  so  childish.  Put 
one  round  you,  or  you  will  certainly  catch  cold." 

"With  a. you,  I  will  certainly  not  put  it  on." 

"Take  it,  my  darling  Fritz,  I  beg  of  thee,"  en- 
treated Laura. 

"That  sounds  quite  different,"  said  Fritz. 

The  window  was   opened,  and  the  shawl   put  out. 

"He  is  firm  as  a  rock,"  said  Laura,  seating  her- 
self again.  "Complaisant  as  he  appears,  he  knows 
well  what  he  chooses  to  do,  and,  contrary  to  his  own  con- 
victions, will  not  give  in,  even  to  me.  That  is  all  for  the 
best,  for  I  am  still  a  childish  creature,  and  my  father 
was  in  the  right;  I  need  a  husband  who  will  look  more 
calmly  on  the  world  than  I  do." 

It  began  to  rain.    The  coachman  put  on  his  cloak, 


490  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

and  Fritz  spread  his  plaid  and  enveloped  himself  in 
it.  She  became  very  anxious  about  Fritz,  and  again 
knocked  at  the  window. 

"It  is  raining,  Fritz." 

This  the  Doctor  could  not  deny. 

"Come  in,  you  will  get  wet  and  catch  cold." 

The  carriage  stopped,  and  Fritz  obediently  got 
down  and  entered  it,  while  Laura  wiped  away  the  rain- 
drops on  his  hair  and  shawl  with  her  pocket-handker- 
chief. 

"You  said  you  four  times,"  began  Fritz,  reprov- 
ingly. "If  it  continues  thus,  you  will  have  a  large 
reckoning  to  pay." 

"Be  serious,"  began  Laura,  "I  am  in  a  very 
solemn  mood.  I  am  thinking  of  our  future.  I  will 
think  of  it  day  and  night,  dearest  one,  that  you  may 
not  feel  the  loss  of  your  mother.  Your  dear  mother 
has  always  taken  your  coffee  up  to  you,  but  that  is  un- 
sociable, you  shall  come  over  to  me  and  take  your 
breakfast  with  me  ;  your  Hindus  must  grant  this  half- 
hour  to  me.  About  ten  o'clock  I  shall  send  you  over 
an  egg,  and  at  dinner-time  you  will  come  over  again 
to  me.  I  shall  take  care  that  the  cooking  is  good  ;  we 
will  live  simply,  as  we  are  accustomed,  and  well. 
Then  you  shall  tell  me  something  about  your  books 
that  I  may  know  what  my  husband  is  occupied  with, 
for  this  is  a  wife's  right.  In  the  afternoon  we  will  take 
a  walk  together  in  the  streets." 

"What  do  you  mean?"  asked  Fritz,  " 'over  there,' 
'here,'  'in  the  streets'?  Surely  we  shall  live  to- 
gether." 

Laura  looked  at  him  with  open  eyes,  and  a  blush 
slowly  mantled  over  her  face  up  to  her  temples. 


ON  THE  ROAD  TO  THE  ROCK.          491 

"We  cannot,  as  man  and  wife,  live  in  different 
houses?" 

Laura  held  her  hand  before  her  eyes  and  remained 
silent.  As  she  did  not  answer,  Fritz  drew  her  hand 
quietly  from  her  face,  and  large  tears  rolled  down  her 
cheeks. 

"My  mother,"  she  said,  softly,  as  she  wept. 

So  touching  was  the  expression  of  her  grief,  that 
Fritz  said,  sympathizingly  : 

"Do  not  grieve,  Laura,  about  her,  we  will  live 
where  you  like,  and  exactly  as  you  think  fit." 

But  even  these  kind  words  could  not  comfort  the 
poor  soul,  whose  maidenly  anxieties  cast  a  shadow 
over  her  future.  The  colored  haze  with  which  her 
childish  fancy  had  invested  her  free  life  in  the  neigh- 
borhood of  her  loved  one,  had  been  dissolved. 

She  sat  silent  and  sad. 

The  coachman  stopped  before  a  village  inn  to  re- 
fresh himself  and  his  horses.  The  young  landlady 
stood  at  the  door  with  her  child  in  her  arms ;  she  ap- 
proached the  carriage  and  civilly  invited  them  to 
alight.  Laura  looked  anxiously  at  the  Doctor ;  he 
nodded,  the  carriage  door  was  opened.  Laura  seated 
herself  on  a  bench  in  front  of  the  door,  and  asked  the 
young  woman  questions  about  her  family,  in  order  to 
show  the  self-possession  of  a  traveller.  The  woman 
answered,  confidently  : 

"This  is  our  first  child,  we  have  been  married 
scarcely  two  years.  Excuse  me,  but  I  suppose  you 
are  a  young  married  couple." 

Laura  rose  hastily,  her  cheeks  glowed  a  deeper  red 
than  the  rising  sun,  as  she  answered  with  alow  "No." 

"Then  you  are  engaged  without  doubt,"  said  the 
woman,  "that  can  be  seen  at  once." 


492  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

How  could  you  discover  that  ? "  asked  Laura, 
without  raising  her  eyes. 

"One  sees  evidence  of  it,"  replied  the  woman, 
"the  way  in  which  you  looked  at  the  gentleman  was 
significant  enough." 

"A  good  gu&ss,"  exclaimed  the  Doctor,  gaily;  but 
he  also  colored  slightly. 

Laura  turned  away  and  struggled  for  composure. 
The  secret  of  her  journey  was  apparent  to  every  one. 
It  was  known  in  the  city  and  was  spoken  of  in  the 
villages.  Her  betrothal  had  been  settled  by  the  talk 
of  strangers.  Yet  her  parents  had  not  laid  her  hand 
in  that  of  her  lover,  nor  had  any  of  her  friends  wished 
her  happiness,  but  now  the  stranger  on  the  high  road 
came  and  told  her  to  her  face  what  she  was. 

"If  the  woman  had  known  all, — how  that  I  was 
eloping  secretly  with  Fritz  Hahn,  without  betrothal  or 
marriage, — how  would  she  have  looked  upon  me?" 
thought  Laura. 

She  entered  the  carriage  before  the  coachman  had 
finished  feeding  the  horses,  and  again  tears  flowed 
from  her  eyes.  The  Doctor,  who  did  not  anticipate 
this  change  of  mood,  was  about  to  enter,  when  Laura, 
quite  beside  herself,  exclaimed  : 

"I  beg  of  you  to  sit  by  the  coachman,  I  feel  very 
sad." 

"Why?"  asked  Fritz,  softly. 

"I  have  done  wrong,"  said  Laura.  "Fritz,  I 
should  like  to  return.  What  will  that  woman  think 
of  me  ?  She  saw  right  well  that  we  were  not  engaged." 

"But  are  we  not?"  asked  the  Doctor,  astonished. 
"I  consider  myself  as  decidedly  engaged,  and  the 
friends  to  whom  we  go  will  clearly  look  upon  the  affair 
in  that  point  of  view." 


ON  THE  ROAD  TO  THE  ROCK.          493 

"  I  conjure  you,  Fritz,  to  leave  me  alone  now  ; 
what  I  feel  I  cannot  confess  to  any  human  being ;  if  I 
become  calmer  I  will  knock  at  the  window." 

Fritz  again  climbed  on  the  coach-box,  and  Laura 
passed  a  sorrowful  hour  in  the  solitude  of  her  car- 
riage. 

She  felt  something  strange  on  her  cloak,  looked 
with  alarm  at  the  empty  seat,  and  started  when  she 
saw  the  demon  sitting  next  her,  the  enemy  of  her  life, 
the  red  dog.  He  stretched  out  his  forefeet,  and 
raised  his  moustache  high  in  the  air,  as  if  he  would 
say:  "/  am  carrying  you  off.  The  Doctor  is  sit- 
ting on  the  box,  and  I,  the  mischief-maker,  the  mis- 
anthropist, who  have  caused  so  much  sorrow  to  this 
poetic  soul,  who  have  been  cursed  in  her  journal  in  both 
prose  and  verse,  I,  the  common  and  unworthy  being 
who  used  to  lie  at  her  feet,  sit  by  her  side  the  gloomy 
figure  of  her  fate,  the  spectre  of  her  youth,  and  the 
bad  omen  of  her  future  life.  I  lie  in  the  place  where, 
in  her  childish  poetry,  she  has  long  dreamt  of  another, 
and  I  mock  at  her  tears  and  anxiety."  He  licked  his 
beard  and  looked  from  under  his  long  hair  contempt- 
uously at  her.  Laura  knocked  at  the  window,  resolved 
to  leave  the  carriage  herself  and  sit  upon  the  box. 


Meanwhile  the  mothers  sat  anxiously  in  the  hostile 
houses.  Since  her  daughter  had  left,  Mrs.  Hummel 
trembled  for  fear  of  the  anger  of  her  husband.  She 
knew  from  Laura  that  he  had  not  objected  to  the  jour- 
ney to  Bielstein,  and  only  wished  to  appear  uncon- 
scious of  it  in  order  to  maintain  his  defiant  character 
towards  his  neighbors.  But  of  what  was  to  follow,  he 
would  give  no  information  ;  when  it  came  to  a  decision 


494  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

as  to  what  was  to  become  of  Laura  and  the  Doctor, 
she  felt  there  was  everything  to  fear  from  him.  Mrs. 
Hummel  had  encouraged  the  journey  in  order  to  com- 
pel the  consent  of  the  family  tyrant ;  but  now  she  felt 
distrustful  of  her  own  cleverness.  In  her  sad  per- 
plexity she  put  her  mantle  on,  over  her  morning 
dress,  and  hastened  out  of  the  house  to  seek  conso- 
lation from  her  neighbor. 

The  heart  of  Mrs.  Hahn  was  burdened  with  similar 
cares ;  she  also  was  prepared,  in  her  morning  dress 
and  mantle,  to  go  over  to  Mrs.  Hummel.  The  women 
met  outside  the  two  houses,  and  began  an  exchange 
of  motherly  anxieties.  They  made  use  of  the  neutral 
ground  that  lay  between  the  hostile  domains  for  quiet 
intercourse,  and  forgot  that  they  were  standing  in  the 
street.  The  bells  sounded  and  the  church-goers  re- 
turned, yet  they  were  still  standing  together  talking 
over  the  past  and  future.  The  comedian  approached 
them  elegantly  dressed ;  as  he  drew  near  he  made  a 
dramatic  salutation  with  his  hand.  Mrs.  Hummel 
looked  with  anxiety  at  her  favorite  guest,  she  feared 
his  conjectures  and  still  more  his  sharp  tongue.  His 
face  was  radiant  with  pleasure  and  his  gestures  were 
sympathetic. 

"What  a  surprise,"  he  exclaimed,  in  the  tone  of  a 
warm-hearted  uncle;  "what  an  agreeable  surprise? 
The  old  quarrel  made  up  ;  wreaths  of  flowers  from  one 
house  to  the  other ;  the  discord  of  the  fathers  is  atoned 
for  by  the  love  of  the  children.  I  offer  my  hearty  con- 
gratulations." 

"What  do  you  mean?"  asked  Mrs.  Hummel,  per- 
plexed. 

"An  elopement,"  exclaimed  the  comedian,  raising 
his  hands. 


ON  THE  ROAD  TO  THE  ROCK.          495 

Both  mothers  looked  terrified. 

"I  must  beg  of  you,  in  your  remarks,  to  have  more 
regard  for  the  real  state  of  things,"  replied  Mrs.  Hum- 
mel with  offended  dignity. 

"An  elopement, "  again  exclaimed  the  gentleman 
triumphantly.  "Quite  in  conformity  with  the  humor 
of  this  house ;  it  is  a  master-stroke." 

"I  feel  confident  from  our  old  friendship,"  said 
Mrs.  Hummel,  "that  you  do  not  mean  to  insult  us ; 
but  I  must  earnestly  request  you  to  have  regard,  at 
least,  for  propriety." 

The  comedian  was  astonished  at  the  reproaches  of 
his  patroness. 

"I  only  repeat  what  I  have  just  been  informed  of 
by  post."  He  drew  out  of  his  pocket  a  neat  letter. 
"I  hope  that  the  ladies  will  convince  themselves." 
He  read  aloud  :  "  '  I  beg  to  announce  to  you  the  be- 
trothal of  Dr.  Fritz  Hahn  with  my  daughter  Laura, 
and  their  elopement  this  morning  from  her  parents' 
house.  Yours  humbly,  Hummel.'  This  quite  answers 
to  the  character  of  our  humorous  friend." 

The  ladies  stood  aghast.  Then  the  rustling  of  a  silk 
dress  was  heard,  the  godmother  came  up  hastily,  her 
hymn-book  in  her  hand,  and  called  out  while  yet  in 
the  distance : 

"What  does  one  not  live  to  see?  You  naughty 
people  !  Is  it  right  that  the  friends  of  the  family  should 
first  learn  from  the  preacher  in  the  church  what  is 
happening  here?" 

"What  do  you  mean?"  asked  both  ladies,  quite 
confounded. 

"That  the  bans  of  your  children  have  been  pro- 
claimed in  church  to-day  for  the  first,  second,  and 
third  time.  There  was  general  astonishment,  and 


496  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

though  you  have  acted  in  so  unfriendly  a  way  as  to 
keep  it  a  secret,  all  your  acquaintances  were  delighted. 
Now  the  whole  city  is  full  of  it." 

Without  speaking  a  word  the  two  mothers  flew 
into  each  others'  arms  in  the  open  street,  midway  be- 
tween the  houses.  The  comedian  stood  on  one  side 
with  his  hand  in  his  breast  pocket,  the  godmother  on 
the  other  with  folded  hands. 


It  was  also  a  troublous  Sunday  on  the  estate  of 
Use's  father.  During  the  previous  night  a  waterspout 
had  burst  on  the  hills,  and  a  wild  flood  poured  down 
where  formerly  the  brook  ran  between  the  meadows. 
The  oldest  people  did  not  remember  such  a  rush  of 
water.  Before  this  the  brook  had  been  much  swollen 
by  the  rains  of  the  previous  week,  now  it  roared  and 
thundered  through  the  narrow  valley  between  the 
manor-house  and  the  sloping  hills,  and  overflowed  the 
fields  where  it  was  not  defied  by  the  steepness  of  the 
country  and  rocks.  Furiously  did  the  water  rush  and 
foam  over  the  rocks  and  about  the  heads  of  the  wil- 
lows, carrying  away  the  hay  from  the  meadows  in  its 
course,  uprooting  reeds  and  tearing  off  branches  of 
trees,  and  also  the  ruins  of  habitations,  which,  though 
far  above,  had  been  reached  by  the  flood.  The  peo- 
ple of  the  estate  stood  by  the  edge  of  the  orchard, 
looking  silently  upon  the  stream  and  the  ruins  it  bore 
along  with  it.  The  children  ran  eagerly  along  the  side 
of  the  water,  endeavoring  to  draw  toward  them  with 
poles  whatever  they  could  reach.  They  raised  loud  cries 
when  they  saw  a  living  animal  floating  along.  It  was 
a  kid  standing  on  one  of  the  boards  of  the  roof  of  its 
stall.  When  the  little  creature  saw  the  people  stand- 


ON  THE  ROAD  TO  THE  ROCK.  497 

ing  near,  it  cried  piteously,  as  if  begging  to  be  rescued. 
Hans  put  out  a  well-hook,  caught  hold  of  the  plank, 
the  kid  sprang  ashore  and  was  taken  in  grand  pro- 
cession by  the  children  to  the  farmyard  and  there  fed. 

Use  was  standing  at  the  new  bridge  leading  to  the 
grotto.  It  had  only  been  built  a  few  weeks,  and  was 
now  threatened  with  destruction.  Already  the  sup- 
ports were  bending  on  one  side.  The  force  of  the 
water  worked  against  the  lower  end,  and  loosened  the 
pegs.  The  foam  of  the  water  whirled  round  the  pro- 
jecting foot  of  the  rock,  which  formed  the  vault  of  the 
grotto,  and  the  power  of  the  rising  water  made  deep 
furrows  in  the  flood. 

"There  comes  some  one  running  from  the  moun- 
tain," exclaimed  the  people. 

A  girl  came  hastily  round  the  rock,  with  a  large 
kerchief  full  of*  fresh  -  mowed  mountain  grass  on 
her  back.  She  stopped  terrified  on  the  platform  of 
the  rock,  and  hesitated  about  crossing  the  unsafe 
bridge. 

"It  is  poor  Benz's  Anna  !  "  exclaimed  Use  ;  " she 
must  not  remain  there  in  the  wilderness.  Throw  your 
burden  away — be  brisk,  Anna,  and  come  over  quickly. " 

The  girl  passed  rapidly  across  the  bridge. 

"She  shall  be  the  last  one,"  commanded  Use. 
"None  of  you  shall  attempt  to  go  upon  it,  for  it  will 
not  bear  the  pressure  long." 

Her  father  came  up. 

"The  flood  will  subside  to-night  if  fresh  rain  does 
not  fall ;  but  the  injury  it  has  done  will  long  be  re- 
membered. Below,  at  Rossau,  it  appears  still  worse  ; 
it  has  overflowed  the  fields.  Mr.  Hummel  has  has- 
tened down,  as  he  is  anxious  about  the  bridges  on  the 
road  on  which  his  daughter  is  coming.  In  the  village 


498  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

the  water  has  entered  some  of  the  houses  ;  the  people 
are  preparing  to  move  to  our  farm-yard.  Go  down  and 
help  them,"  he  said,  turning  to  some  laborers,  and 
continued,  in  a  low  tone,  to  his  daughter:  "  The  Prince 
has  gone  to  the  village  to  examine  the  damage  there. 
He  wishes  to  speak  to  you  ;  would  you  like  to  see  him 
now  ?" 

"I  am  ready,"  said  Use. 

She  went  towards  the  village  with  her  father;  there 
she  ascended  to  the  churchyard. 

"I  shall  remain  in  the  neighborhood,"  said  he. 
"When  the  Prince  leaves  you,  call  me." 

She  stood  by  the  side  of  the  wall,  looking  at  the 
grave  of  her  dear  mother  and  at  the  spot  where  the 
old  Pastor  reposed  with  his  wife.  The  branches  of 
the  trees  which  she  had  planted  here  hung  over  her 
head.  She  remembered  how  fond  her  old  friend  had 
been  of  dilating  on  the  fact  that  everything  was  just  the 
same  in  the  great  world  as  in  his  village,  the  nature 
and  passions  of  men  were  everywhere  alike,  and  that 
one  might  make  the  same  experience  in  their  little  val- 
ley as  amidst  the  tumult  of  the  Court. 

"  Here  my  father  is  master,"  she  thought,  "and 
the  people  are  accustomed  to  obey  us,  his  children, 
and  to  regard  us  as  we  do  our  rulers.  And  their 
children,  too,  might  experience  what  others  have  had 
to  experience,  were  their  master  an  evil-minded  man. 
Yet  they  may  ask  for  justice  at  any  moment  and  find 
protection. 

"  How  will  he,  the  proud  man,  bear  that  his  wife 
should  not  find  justice  or  protection  from  the  injury 
which  has  been  done  to  both  her  and  him  ?  We 
ought  to  do  good  to  those  who  injure  us.  If  the  wicked 
Sovereign  should  now  come  to  me  sick  and  helpless, 


ON  THE  ROAD  TO  THE  ROCK.  499 

ought  I  to  receive  him  in  my  house  ?  and  ought  I  to 
place  myself  by  his  couch,  when  such  a  mark  of 
kindness  might  expose  me  to  fresh  insult  ?  I  have 
worn  a  white  mantle  ;  the  stain  which  he  has  cast 
upon  it,  I  see  every  hour,  and  no  tears  wash  it  away. 
He  has  taken  from  me  my  pure  robe ;  shall  I  also  at 
his  bidding"  give  him  my  gown  ?  O  high  and  honorable 
precept,  taught  me  by  my  departed  friend,  I  tremble 
to  obey.  It  is  a  struggle  between  duties,  and  the 
thought  of  my  Felix  says  to  me,  'No.' 

"I  have  done  with  the  young  Prince  too,  however 
innocent  he  may  be.  I  know  that  he  once  sought  en- 
couragement from  the  simple  woman  with  all  the 
warmth  of  his  heart,  and  my  vanity  has  often  told  me 
that  I  have  been  a  good  friend  to  him  in  his  high  yet 
lonely  life.  Fearfully  have  I  atoned  for  this  vain 
pride.  He  also  from  henceforth  must  be  a  stranger 
to  me.  What  can  he  still  wish  from  me?  I  imagine 
that  he  thinks  exactly  as  I  do,  and  only  wishes  to  take 
leave  of  me  for  ever.  Well,  I  am  prepared  for  it." 

The  Hereditary  Prince  came  along  the  footpath 
from  the  village.  Use  remained  standing  by  the  wall 
of  the  churchyard,  and  bowed  calmly  to  his  greeting. 

"  I  have  made  known  at  the  capital  my  wish  to 
travel,"  began  the  Prince;  "I  hope  my  request  v/ill 
be  granted.  And  I  have  therefore  come  to  say  fare- 
well to  you." 

"What  you  now  say,"  answered  Use,  "shows  that 
I  have  rightly  judged  your  Highness." 

"  I  had  little  opportunity  of  speaking  to  you  in  the 
city,"  said  the  Prince,  shyly;  "it  would  grieve  me  if 
you  should  deem  me  capable  of  ingratitude  or  of  cold- 
heartedness." 

"I   know  the  reasons   that   kept   your   Highness 


500  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

away,"  replied  Use,  looking  down  ;  "and  I  am  thank- 
ful for  your  good  intentions." 

"  To-day  I  wish  to  tell  you,  and  at  the  same  time 
your  husband,"  continued  the  Prince,  "that  I  shall  en- 
deavor to  make  what  I  have  learnt  with  you  useful 
for  my  future  life.  I  know  that  this  is  the  only  way 
in  which  I  can  thank  you.  If  you  should  ever  hear 
that  my  people  are  contented  with  me,  you  may  feel, 
gracious  lady,  that  I  have  to  thank,  above  all,  you 
and  yours  for  the  strengthening  of  my  sense  of  duty, 
for  an  impartial  judgment  of  the  worth  of  men,  and 
for  a  higher  standard  of  the  duties  of  one  who  has  to 
guard  the  welfare  of  many.  I  shall  endeavor  to  show 
myself  not  quite  unworthy  of  the  sympathy  you  have 
accorded  me.  If  you  learn  from  others  that  it  has 
benefited  me,  think  kindly  of  me." 

Use  looked  at  his  excited  countenance  ;  there  was 
the  gentle,  honest  expression  which  she  had  so  often 
watched  with  anxious  sympathy;  she  saw  how  deeply 
he  felt  that  something  had  interposed  between  him 
and  her,  and  how  thoughtfully  he  endeavored  to  spare 
her.  But  she  did  not  fathom  the  deep  and  powerful 
grief  of  the  young  man,  the  poetry  of  whose  youthful 
life  a  father  had  destroyed.  She  did  not  guess  that 
the  punishment  which  could  not  reach  the  father  had 
fallen  upon  the  innocent  soul  of  the  son.  The  injury 
that  the  father  had  inflicted  had  clouded  the  happiest 
feeling  of  his  young  life — his  warm  friendship  for  the 
woman  to  whom  he  clung  with  enthusiastic  admira- 
tion. But  the  kind-hearted  Use  understood  the  full 
worth  of  him  who  now  stood  before  her,  and  her  cau- 
tious reserve  disappeared ;  with  her  old  frankness, 
she  said  to  him  :  "  One  must  not  be  unjust  to  the  in- 
nocent, nor  be  untrue  to  those  whose  confidence  one 


ON  THE  ROAD  TO  THE  ROCK.          5OI 

has  had,  as  I  have  yours.  What  I  now  wish  for  your 
Highness  is  a  friend.  I  have  seen  that  this  is  what 
your  life  needs,  and  I  have  observed,  too,  how  diffi- 
cult it  is  to  avoid  forming  a  low  estimate  of  men  when 
one's  sole  companions  are  servants." 

These  kind  words  of  Use  broke  down  the  compo- 
sure which  the  Prince  had  been  struggling  to  maintain. 
"A  friend  for  me?"  he  asked,  bitterly.  "Fate  early 
disciplined  me  ;  I  am  not  permitted  to  seek  for  or  enjoy 
friendship  ;  poison  has  been  poured  over  the  love  that 
I  felt.  Forgive  me,"  he  suddenly  said  ;  "  I  am  so  ac- 
customed to  complain  to,  and  seek  comfort  from  you, 
that  I  cannot  help  speaking  of  myself,  although  I  know 
that  I  have  lost  the  right  to  do  so." 

"Poor  Prince, "exclaimed  Use,  "how  can  you  look 
after  the  welfare  of  others,  if  your  own  life  is  void  of 
light  ?  The  happiness  which  I  desire  for  your  High- 
ness's  future  life  is  domestic  love,  a  wife  that  under- 
stands you,  and  would  become  the  friend  of  your  soul. " 

The  Prince  turned  aside  to  conceal  the  pain  that 
this  speech  occasioned  him.  Use  looked  at  him  sor- 
rowfully ;  she  was  once  more  his  good  counsellor  as 
before. 

A  beggar-woman  crept  round  the  wall  of  the 
churchyard. 

"May  I  beg  of  you  to  day?"  began  a  hoarse  voice, 
at  Use's  back.  "When  it  is  not  the  father,  it  is  the 
son." 

Use  turned  round  ;  again  she  saw  the  hollow  eyes 
of  the  gipsy,  and  cried  out,  dismayed,  "Away  from 
here." 

"The  lady  can  no  longer  drive  me  away,"  said  the 
gipsy,  cowering  down,  "for  I  am  very  weary,  and 
my  strength  is  at  an  end." 


502  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

One  could  see  that  she  spoke  the  truth. 

"The  troopers  have  hunted  me  from  one  boundary 
to  another.  If  others  have  no  compassion  on  me,  the 
lady  from  the  rock  should  not  be  so  hard-hearted,  for 
there  is  old  fellowship  between  the  beggar  and  her. 
I  also  once  had  intercourse  with  noble  people,  I  have 
abandoned  them,  and  yet  my  dreams  ever  hover  over 
their  golden  palaces.  Whoever  has  drunk  of  the  magic 
cup  will  not  lose  the  remembrance  of  it.  It  has  again 
and  again  driven  me  into  this  country,  I  have  led  my 
people  here — and  they  now  lie  in  prison,  the  victims 
of  the  old  memories  that  pursued  me." 

"Who  is  this  woman?"  asked  the  Prince. 

The  beggar  raised  her  hands  on  high. 

"In  these  arms  I  have  held  the  Hereditary  Prince 
when  he  was  a  child  and  knew  nothing  ;  I  have  sat 
with  him  on  velvet  in  his  mother's  room.  Now  I  lie  in 
the  churchyard  on  the  high  road,  and  the  hands  that  I 
stretch  out  to  him  remain  empty." 

"It  is  the  gipsy  woman,"  said  the  Prince  in  a  low 
tone,  and  turned  away. 

The  beggar-woman  looked  at  him  scornfully,  and 
said  to  Use: 

"They  trifle  with  us,  and  ruin  us,  but  they  hate 
the  remembrance  of  old  times  and  of  their  guilt.  Be 
warned  young  woman,  I  know  the  secrets  of  this  noble 
family,  and  I  can  tell  you  what  they  have  tried  to  do 
to  you,  and  what  they  have  done  to  another  who  flour- 
ished before  you  on  yonder  height,  and  whom  they 
placed,  as  they  did  you,  in  the  gilded  prison,  over 
whose  portal  the  black  angel  hovers." 

Use  stood  bending  over  the  beggar  woman,  the 
Prince  approached  her. 

"Do  not  listen  to  the  woman,"  he  exclaimed. 


ON  THE  ROAD  TO  THE  ROCK.          503 

"Speak  on,"  said  Use,  with  a  faint  voice. 

"She  was  young  and  finely  formed  like  you,  and 
like  you  she  was  brought  to  that  prison,  and  when  the 
mother  of  this  man  removed  me  from  her  service  be- 
cause I  pleased  the  Sovereign,  I  was  appointed  to 
serve  the  stranger.  One  morning  I  was  made  to  ask 
for  leave  of  absence  from  the  imprisoned  lady,  because 
she  was  to  be  alone." 

"I  entreat  of  you  not  to  listen  to  her,"  implored 
the  Prince. 

"I  listen,"  said  Use,  again  bending  down  over  the 
old  woman,  "speak  low." 

"When  I  came  back  the  next  morning  I  found  a 
maniac  in  the  house  instead  of  the  fair-haired  lady, 
and  I  escaped  from  the  place  in  terror.  Do  you  wish 
to  know  through  which  door  madness  made  its  way  to 
that  woman  ?"  she  continued  in  a  low  murmur.  Use 
put  her  ear  to  her  mouth,  but  sprang  suddenly  back  and 
uttered  a  piercing  shriek,  hiding  her  face  with  her 
hands.  The  Prince  leaned  against  the  wall  and  wrung 
his  hands. 

A  loud  call  sounded  from  the  carriage-road,  and  a 
man  hastily  approached  ;  he  held  out  a  letter  while 
still  at  a  distance. 

"  Gabriel !"  exclaimed  Use,  hastening  towards  him. 
She  tore  the  letter  from  him,  read  it,  and  supported 
herself  convulsively  against  one  of  the  stones  of  the 
churchyard.  The  Prince  sprang  forward,  but  she  held 
out  the  letter  as  if  to  stop  him  and  exclaimed : 

"The  Sovereign  is  coming." 

The  Prince  looked  terrified  at  Gabriel. 

"He  is  hardly  a  mile  from  here,"  announced  the 
exhausted  servant.  "  I  overtook  the  princely  carriage, 
and  succeeded  in  getting  ahead  of  it.  The  horses  are 


504  THE    LOST   MANUSCRIPT. 

struggling  along  the  unfinished  road,  but  the  bridge 
between  this  and  Rossau  is  now  scarcely  fit  for  horse- 
men or  carriages ;  I  was  obliged  to  leave  my  horse  be- 
hind ;  I  do  not  believe  they  will  be  able  to  cross  it, 
except  on  foot." 

Without  saying  a  word  the  Prince  hastened  down 
the  road  to  Rossau.  Use  flew  with  her  letter  in  her 
hand  up  the  rock  to  her  father,  who  came  with  Mr.  von 
Weidegg  to  meet  her. 

"Go  and  pay  your  respects  to  your  master,"  she 
called  out  wildly,  to  the  Chamberlain.  "My  Felix 
comes  !  "  she  called  to  her  father,  and  sank  upon  his 
breast. 

People  were  collected  near  the  temporary  bridge 
between  Rossau  and  Bielstein.  Gabriel  also  hastened 
back  to  the  water;  he  had  met  Mr.  Hummel  there, 
who  was  passing  up  and  down  along  the  bank  looking 
across  the  stream. 

"The  world  is  wretchedly  small,"  exclaimed  Mr. 
Hummel,  to  his  confidant,  "people  always  meet  again. 
One  who  has  been  galloping,  like  you,  should  take  care 
of  himself ;  you  are  exhausted,  and  look  greatly  changed. 
Sit  down  on  this  log  and  rest  yourself  like  a  sensible 
man." 

He  pushed  Gabriel  down,  buttoned  his  coat,  and 
patted  him  on  the  cheek  with  his  large  hand. 

"You  must  be  in  great  need  of  refreshment,  but 
the  best  we  have  here  is  a  water-perch,  and  I  do  not 
like  to  treat  you  like  a  despicable  New  Zealander,  who 
in  the  booths  at  a  fair  consumes  five  cents-worth  of 
raw  whitings.  Take  the  last  restorative  of  a  Parisian 
traveler. " 

He  forced  him  to  take  a  piece  of  chocolate. 

A  few  steps  from  them,  at  the  bridge,  stood  the 


ON  THE  ROAD  TO  THE  ROCK.          505 

Prince  with  folded  arms,  looking  at  the  water,  which 
on  the  side  of  Rossau  had  spread  itself  over  the  mead- 
ows and  low  fields  about  the  town.  Rapidly  did  the  ex- 
panse of  water  increase  ;  on  the  nearest  part  of  the 
new  road,  which  had  not  yet  been  paved,  puddles  of 
water  gleamed  between  the  heaps  of  sand  and  the 
wheelbarrows  of  the  workmen  ;  the  road  projected  like 
a  dark  strip  out  of  the  muddy  flood.  A  few  individ- 
uals were  coming  from  Rossau  ;  they  waded  through 
the  thick  mud  of  the  road  and  supported  themselves 
timidly  by  the  smooth  poles  which  supplied  the  place 
of  the  bridge  rails.  For  the  water  rushed  violently 
against  the  beams  instead  of  flowing  deep  under  the 
arches,  and  the  spectators  on  the  Bielstein  side  called 
aloud  to  them  to  make  haste.  The  Chamberlain  has- 
tened down  to  his  silent  master  and  looked  anxiously 
in  his  face.  He  was  followed  by  the  Proprietor. 

"  If  I  could  do  as  I  wished,  I  would  break  these  tot- 
tering planks  with  my  own  hands,"  he  said,  indig- 
nantly, to  Mr.  Hummel. 

"The  carriages  are  coming,"  called  the  people. 
The  Sovereign's  carriage  with  four  horses  drove  at  a 
rapid  trot  through  the  gate  of  Rossau.  Beside  the 
Sovereign  sat  the  Lord  High  Steward.  The  former 
had  during  the  wearisome  journey  been  in  a  state  of 
gloomy  stupor ;  an  occasional  wild  word,  and  a  look  of 
intense  hatred,  was  all  his  intercourse  with  his  com- 
panion. 

The  courtier  had  in  vain  endeavored  to  draw  the 
Sovereign  into  quiet  conversation.  Even  the  consid- 
eration of  the  two  servants  sitting  at  the  back  of  the 
open  carriage 'could  not  restrain  the  Sovereign's  mood. 
Exhausted  by  the  secret  strain  of  this  journey  the  old 
gentleman  sat,  the  attendant  by  his  invalid,  and  his 


506  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

sharp  eye  watched  every  movement  of  his  companion. 
When  they  drove  out  of  the  town  into  the  open  coun- 
try, the  Sovereign  began,  musingly  : 

"  Did  you  recognize  the  horseman  that  overlook 
us  in  such  haste?" 

"  He  was  a  stranger  to  me, "  said  the  High  Steward. 

"  He  conveyed  information  of  our  arrival ;  they  are 
prepared  to  receive  us." 

"Then  he  has  done  your  Highness  a  service,  for 
they  would  hardly  have  had  any  anticipation  at  the  hunt- 
ing-lodge of  your  Highness's  important  resolution." 

''We  are  not  yet  at  the  end  of  our  drama,  Lord 
High  Steward,"  said  the  Sovereign,  tauntingly;  "the 
art  of  foreseeing  the  future  is  lost.  Even  your  Ex- 
cellency does  not  understand  that." 

"  I  have  always  been  satisfied  with  observing  cau- 
tiously what  surrounds  me  in  the  present,  and  I  have 
thereby  sometimes  guarded  myself  from  being  disa- 
greeably surprised  by  the  future.  If  by  any  accident 
I  should  myself  be  prevented  from  carrying  out  my 
role  in  the  drama  of  which  your  Highness  speaks,  I 
have  taken  care  that  others  shall  act  my  part." 

The  Sovereign  threw  himself  back  in  his  seat.  The 
carriage  went  on  through  the  mire,  the  horses  floun- 
dered, and  the  coachman  looked  back  doubtfully. 

"Forward!"  called  out  the  Sovereign,  in  a  sharp 
voice. 

The  Hereditary  Prince  awaits  your  Highness  at 
the  bridge  on  foot,"  said  the  High  Steward. 

They  went  on  at  a  good  pace,  the  coachman  with 
difficulty  restraining  his  horses,  who  were  frightened 
at  the  glittering  expanse  of  water  and  the  roar  of  the 
flood. 

"Forward  !  "  again  commanded  the  Sovereign. 


ON  THE  ROAD  TO  THE  ROCK.          507 

"Permit  the  coachman  to  stop,  your  Highness; 
the  carriage  cannot  go  further  without  danger." 

"Do  you  fear  danger,  old  man?"  exclaimed  the 
Sovereign,  his  face  distorted  with  hatred.  "Here  we 
are  both  in  the  water — the  same  fate  for  us  both,  Lord 
High  Steward.  He  is  a  bad  servant  who  abandons 
his  master." 

"  But  I  wish  to  restrain  your  Highness  also,"  replied 
the  H;gh  Steward. 

"Forward  !  "  cried  the  Sovereign  again. 

The  coachman  stopped. 

"It  is  impossible,  most  gracious  master,"  he  said; 
"we  can  no  longer  go  over  the  bridge." 

The  Sovereign  jumped  up  in  the  carriage,  and 
raised  his  stick  against  the  coachman.  The  man, 
frightened,  whipped  his  horses  ;  they  reared  and  sprang 
off  to  one  side. 

"Stop  ! "  cried  the  High  Steward. 

The  frightened  lackeys  readily  jumped  down,  and 
held  the  horses.  The  High  Steward  opened  the  car- 
riage door,  and  scrambled  out. 

"I  beseech  your  Highness  to  alight." 

The  Sovereign  sprang  out,  and,  casting  a  look  of 
vindictive  hatred  at  him,  hastened  forward  on  foot. 
He  stepped  on  the  bridge,  and  the  flood  roared  around 
him. 

"Stay  back,  father,"  entreated  the  Hereditary 
Prince. 

The  father  laughed,  and  advanced  over  the  totter- 
ing planks ;  he  had  passed  over  the  middle  of  the 
bridge  and  the  deepest  part  of  the  stream  ;  only  a  few 
steps  more  and  his  foot  would  touch  the  shore  of  Biel- 
stein.  At  that  moment  there  rose  up  near  the  bridge 
a  bent  figure,  that  cried  out  wildly  to  him  : 


508  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

"Welcome  to  our  country,  Gracious  Lord  ;  mercy 
for  the  poor  beggar-woman.  I  bring  you  greeting  from 
the  fair-haired  lady  of  the  rock." 

"Away  with  the  crazy  creature,"  exclaimed  the 
Chamberlain. 

The  Sovereign  gazed  fixedly  at  the  wild  figure ;  he 
tottered,  and  supported  himself  by  the  rails.  The 
Hereditary  Prince  flew  towards  him  ;  the  father  drew 
back  with  a  shudder,  lost  his  footing,  and  rolled»down 
the  side  of  the  slippery  planks  into  the  flood. 

There  was  a  loud  scream  from  the  bystanders ;  the 
son  sprang  after  him.  The  next  moment  half-a-dozen 
men  were  in  the  water — among  the  first,  Gabriel,  cau- 
tiously followed  by  Mr.  Hummel.  The  gigantic  form 
of  the  Proprietor  towered  above  the  stream  ;  he  had 
grasped  the  Sovereign,  while  Gabriel  and  Hummel 
seized  the  Prince.  "The  Sovereign  lives,"  called  out 
the  Proprietor  to  the  son,  laying  the  unconscious  man 
on  the  shore.  The  Hereditary  Prince  threw  himself 
down  by  his  father  on  the  ground.  The  latter  lay  on 
the  gravel  road,  the  beggar-woman  holding  his  head  ; 
he  looked  with  glazed -eyes  before  him,  and  did  not 
recognize  his  kneeling  son,  nor  the  furrowed  counte- 
nance of  the  stranger  who  bent  over  him.  "  He  lives," 
repeated  the  Proprietor,  in  a  low  tone  ;  "  but  his  limbs 
cannot  perform  their  office."  On  the  other  side  of  the 
water  stood  the  High  Steward.  He  called  out  to  the 
Chamberlain  in  French,  then  hastened  back  with  the 
carriage  to  Rossau,  in  order  to  reach  a  safer  crossing. 
It  was  with  difficulty  that  the  carriage  was  brought 
back.  Meanwhile,  on  the  Bielstein  side,  a  plank  was 
torn  off  the  half-destroyed  bridge  and  the  Sovereign 
laid  upon  it  and  carried  to  the  Manor.  The  children 
of  the  Proprietor  ran  ahead  and  opened  the  door  of 


ON  THE  ROAD  TO  THE  ROCK-          509 

the  old  house.  In  the  hall  stood  Use,  white  as  marble. 
She  had  been  told  by  her  brother  that  the  Sovereign 
was  saved  from  the  water ;  he  was  approaching  the 
house,  to  two  generations  of  which  he  had  been  a  curse 
and  a  terror.  She  stood  in  the  entrance-hall  no  longer 
the  Use  of  former  days,  but  a  wild  Saxon  woman  who 
would  hurl  the  curses  of  her  gods  on  the  head  of  the 
enemy  of  her  race  ;  her  eyes  glowed,  and  her  hands 
closed  convulsively.  They  carried  the  exhausted  man 
up  the  steps.  Then  Use  came  to  the  threshold,  and 
cried  : 

"  Not  in  here." 

So  shrill  was  the  command,  that  the  bearers  halted. 

"Not  into  our  house,"  she  cried  the  second  time, 
raising  her  hand  threateningly. 

The  Sovereign  heard  the  voice  ;  he  smiled,  and 
nodded  his  head  graciously. 

"It  is  a  Christian   duty,  Use,"  exclaimed  the  Pro- 
prietor. 

"I  am  the  Professor's  wife,"  cried  Use,  passion- 
ately. "  Our  roof  will  fall  upon  that  man's  head." 

"Remove  your  daughter,"  said  the  Hereditary 
Prince,  in  a  low  tone.  "I  demand  admittance  for  the 
Sovereign  of  this  country." 

The  Proprietor  approached  the  steps  and  seized 
Use's  arm.  She  tore  herself  away  from  him. 

"You  drive  your  daughter  from  your  house, 
father,"  she  exclaimed,  beside  herself.  "  If  you  are  the 
servant  of  this  man,  I  am  not.  There  is  no  room 
for  him  and  my  husband  at  the  same  time.  He  comes 
to  ruin  us,  and  his  presence*  brings  a  curse  !  " 

She  tore  open  the  gate  into  the  garden  and  fled 
under  the  trees,  burst  through  the  hedge,  and  hastened 
down  into  the  valley ;  there  she  sprang  upon  the 


510  THE    LOST   MANUSCRIPT. 

wooden  bridge,  from  which  she  had  shortly  before 
driven  the  village  people  ;  the  flood  roared  wildly 
beneath  her,  and  the  woodwork  bent  and  groaned.  A 
rent,  a  crack,  and  with  a  powerful  spring  she  alighted 
on  the  rock  on  the  other  side  ;  behind  her  the  ruins  of 
the  bridge  whirled  down  to  the  valley.  She  stood  on 
the  rocky  prominence  in  front  of  the  grotto,  and  raised 
her  hands  with  a  wild  look  to  heaven.  Her  eldest 
brother  came  running  behind  her  from  the  garden, 
and  screamed  when  he  saw  the  ruins  of  the  bridge. 

"  I  am  separated  from  you/.'  exclaimed  Use.  "Tell 
father,  he  need  not  care  for  me  ;  the  air  is  pure  here  ; 
I  am  under  the  protection  of  the  Lord,  whom  I  serve ; 
and  my  heart  is  light." 

CHAPTER  XL/. 
IN  THE  CAVE. 

THE  dark  water  gurgled  and  streamed  through  the 
valley  ;  the  reflection  of  the  setting  sun  shone  on  the 
bay-windows  of  the  old  house  ;  the  wife  of  the  Scholar 
stood  alone  beneath  the  rock  overhanging  the  entrance 
to  the  cave.  Where  once  the  wives  of  the  ancient 
Saxons  listened  to  the  rustling  of  the  forest  trees,  and 
where  the  wife  of  the  hunted  robber  hurled  stones  on 
his  pursuers,  now  stood  the  fugitive  daughter  of  the 
Manor  on  the  Rock,  looking  down  on  the  wild  surging 
of  the  water,  and  up  to  the  house  where  he'r  husband's 
foe  was  resting  in  the  arm-chair  of  her  father.  Her 
breast  still  heaved  convulsively,  but  she  looked  kindly 
on  the  brown  rock  which'spread  its  protecting  vault 
above  her.  Below  her  roared  the  wild,  destructive 
flood,  while  around  her  the  diminutive  life  of  nature 
carelessly  played.  The  dragon-flies  chased  one  an- 


IN    THE    CAVE.  511 

other  over  the  water,  the  bees  hummed  about  the  herbs 
of  the  sloping  hill,  and  the  wood-birds  chanted  their 
evening-carols.  She  seated  herself  on  the  stone  bench, 
and  struggled  for  peaceful  thoughts ;  she  folded  her 
hands  and  bent  her  head  ;  and  the  storm  within  her 
bosom  spent  itself  in  the  tears  that  flowed  from  her 
eyes. 

"I  will  not  think  of  myself,  but  only  of  those  I 
love.  The  little  ones  will  inquire  after  me  when  they 
go  to  bed ;  to-night  they  will  not  hear  the  stories  of 
the  city  that  I  used  to  tell  them,  to  put  them  to  sleep. 
They  were  all  wet  after  their  fishing,  and  in  the  con- 
fusion no  one  will  think  of  putting  dry  stockings  on 
them.  In  thinking  of  other,  things  I  have  forgotten  to 
care  for  them.  The  youngest  persists  in  wishing  to 
become  a  professor.  My  child,  you  do  not  know  what 
it  is  you  wish.  How  much  must  you  learn,  and  what 
a  change  will  come  over  you  !  For  the  work  which  life 
accomplishes  in  us  is  immeasurable.  When  I  formerly 
sat  here  near  my  father,  I  believed,  in  my  simplicity, 
that  the  higher  the  office,  the  more  noble  were  the 
men,  and  the  most  exalted  of  all  the  best,  and  that  all 
that  was  important  on  earth  was  done  by  great  and 
refined  minds.  And  when  the  two  scholars  came,  and 
I  talked  about  books  with  Felix  for  the  first  time,  I 
still  imagined  that  everything  in  print  must  be  indu- 
bitable truth,  and  every  one  who  wrote,  a  thoroughly 
learned  man.  Many  think  thus  childishly.  But  I  have 
been  an  obstinate  thing,  and  have  vehemently  opposed 
myself  to  others,  even  to  my  husband,  who  stood  high- 
est in  my  opinion." 

She  looked  with  a  sad  smile  before  her,  but  im- 
mediately afterwards  bent  her  head,  and  again  the 
tears  poured  from  her  eyes. 


512  THE    LOST   MANUSCRIPT. 

She  heard  the  call  of  her  brother  from  the  garden. 

"Holloa,  Use  !  are  you  there?  The  strangers  are 
still  in  the  house ;  they  are  making  a  sedan  chair  for 
the  invalid  ;  he  is  to  be  taken  to  the  ranger's  lodge. 
Father  is  busy  sending  out  messengers.  The  bridge 
at  Rossau  has  also  been  carried  away  by  the  water ; 
we  cannot  get  to  the  town,  and  no  one  can  come  from 
the  town  to  us.  We  feel  very  anxious  about  your  get- 
ting back  to. us. " 

"Do  not  mind  about  me,  Hans, "  said  Use  ;  "tell  the 
girls  they  must  not  be  so  engrossed  with  the  strangers 
as  to  forget  our  dear  guest.  Greet  the  children  for 
me ;  they  must  not  come  to  the  edge  of  the  water  to 
bid  me  good  night,  for  the  bank  is  slippery." 

Use  placed  herself  at  the  entrance  of  the  cave  and 
looked  all  about.  Early  that  morning  she  had  seated 
herself  here,  and  when  the  water  began  to  rise  high, 
she  had  hastened  over  the  wooden  bridge  to  warn  her 
brothers  and  sisters.  Her  work  still  lay  on  the  bench, 
together  with  a  book  that  had  been  given  her  by  the 
Pastor  when  she  was  a  girl.  It  was  the  life  of  the  holy 
Elizabeth,  written  by  one  of  the  most  zealous  eccle- 
siastics of  her  church. 

"When  I  first  read  aboutyou,"  she  thought,  "Saint 
Use  of  the  Wartburg,  my  distinguished  namesake, 
your  life  touched  me,  and  all  that  you  did  and  that 
was  told  of  you  appeared  to  me  as  an  example  for  my- 
self. You  were  a  pious,  sensible,  and  amiable  woman, 
and  united  to  a  worthy  husband.  Then  the  longing 
for  higher  honor  in  his  knightly  order,  and  martial 
fame,  made  him  blind  to  the  nearest  duty  of  his  life, 
and  he  left  you  and  the  people  of  his  home,  and  went 
to  the  wars  in  the  far-off  land  of  Italy.  Two  long  years 
he  wandered  and  fought,  and  finally  returned,  weary 


IN    THE    CAVE.  513 

and  worn.  But  he  found  not  his  beloved  wife  as  he 
had  left  her.  In  the  solitude  that  surrounded  you, 
you  had  yearned  for  your  husband,  and  your  over- 
powering sorrow  had  brought  you  to  ponder  upon  the 
great  mysteries  of  life  ;  your  own  life  had  been  full  of 
longing,  and  for  this  you  had  become  a  pious  penitent. 
You  wore  a  garment  of  hair,  and  scourged  your  back ; 
you  bowed  your  head  and  thoughts  before  an  intol- 
erant priest.  You  did  what  was  not  right  nor  seemly ; 
to  please  your  God,  you  laid  the  leper  in  the  bed  of 
your  dear  husband.  In  your  over-strained  piety  you 
lost  your  warm  heart  and  the  modesty  of  womanhood ; 
you  were  canonized  by  the  clergy;  but  you,  poor 
woman,  in  your  striving  for  what  they  called  the  grace 
of  God,  had  sacrificed  human  feelings  and  duties.  It 
is  not  good,  Use,  that  man  and  wife  separate  without 
great  necessity." 

"When  people  act  harshly  towards  those  they  love, 
they  do  so  because  some  wrong  has  been  done  them 
or  because  they  fancy  themselves  offended.  But  why 
should  you  care  for  invalid  strangers  on  the  couch  that 
your  husband  had  forsaken  ?  I  fear  me,  blessed  Eliza- 
beth, that  it  was  the  spite  of  offended  love,  that  it  was 
secret  revenge  for  having  so  hopelessly  longed  for 
your  husband.  Your  history  is  no  good  teaching  for 
us,  but  rather  a  warning.  My  sweet  old  friend  Pene- 
lope, the  poor  heathen  woman,  was  far  more  human 
than  you  and  a  far  better  wife  than  you.  She  wept 
night  after  night  for  her  loved  husband,  and  when  he 
finally  returned,  she  threw  her  arms  about  him  for  his 
having  recognized  the  secret  signs  of  the  nuptial 
couch." 

Again  a  voice  sounded  from  the  other  side  of  the 
water. 


514  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

"Do  you  hear  me,  Use?"  cried  her  father,  from 
the  other  bank. 

"I  hear  you,"  answered  Use,  raising  herself. 

"The  strangers  are  going  away,"  said  the  father; 
"the  invalid  is  so  weak  that  he  cannot  injure  others  ; 
you  are,  in  truth,  separated  from  us.  It  is  becoming 
dark,  and  there  is  no  prospect  of  being  able  to  repair 
the  bridge  over  the  water  before  night.  Go  along  the 
valley  on  your  side  over  the  hill  to  Rossau,  and  there 
remain  with  some  one  of  our  acquaintances  until  morn- 
ing. It  is  a  long  way  round,  but  you  may  reach  it  be- 
fore night." 

"  I  will  remain  here,  father,"  Use  called  back  ;  "  the 
evening  is  mild,  and  it  is  only  a  few  hours  till  morning. " 

"I  cannot  bear,  Use,  that  my  wilful  child  should 
sleep  beneath  the  rocks  in  the  very  sight  of  her  home." 

"Do  not  mind  about  me.  I  have  the  moon  and 
the  stars  over  me  ;  you  know  that  I  do  not  fear  the 
dwarfs  of  the  cave,  nor  on  my  mountain  the  power  of 
man." 

The  twilight  of  evening  fell  on  the  deep  valley,  and 
the  mist  rose  from  the  water ;  it  floated  slowly  from 
tree  to  tree,  it  undulated  and  rolled  its  long,  dusky  veil 
between  Use  and  her  father's  house.  The  trunks  of 
the  trees  and  the  roof  of  the  house  disappeared,  and 
the  grotto  seemed  to  hover  in  clouds  of  air  separated 
from  the  earth  amidst  indistinct  shadows,  which  hung 
round  the  entrance  of  the  rock  and  fluttered  at  Use's 
feet,  then  collected  together  and  dissolved. 

Use  sat  on  the  bench  at  the  entrance,  her  hands 
folded  over  her  knees,  appearing  in  her  light  dress, 
like  a  fairy  woman  of  olden  times,  a  ruler  of  the  float- 
ing shadows.  She  gazed  along  her  side  of  the  shore 
on  the  mountain-path  that  led  from  Rossau. 


IN    THE    CAVE.  515 

The  distant  steps  of  a  wanderer  sounded  through 
the  damp  fog.  Use  took  hold  of  the  moist  stone. 
Something  moved  on  the  ground  near  her,  and  glided 
indistinctly  forward — perhaps  it  was  a  night-swallow 
or  owl. 

"It  is  he,"  said  Use,  softly.  She  rose  slowly,  she 
trembled,  and  supported  herself  against  the  rock. 

The  figure  of  a  man  stepped  out  of  the  white  mist; 
he  stopped  astonished  when  he  saw  a  woman  standing 
there. 

"Use!  "  called  out  a  clear  voice. 

"I  await  you  here,"  she  answered,  in  a  low  tone. 
"Stop  there,  Felix.  You  find  not  your  wife  as  you 
left  her.  Another  has  coveted  that  which  is  yours  ;  a 
poisonous  breath  has  passed  over  me ;  words  have 
been  said  to  me  which  no  honest  woman  ought  to  hear, 
and  I  have  been  looked  upon  as  a  bought  slave." 

"You  have  escaped  from  the  enemy." 

"I  have,  and  therefore  am  here  ;  but  I  am  no  lon- 
ger in  the  eyes  of  others  what  I  once  was.  You  had  a 
wife  free  from  all  taint ;  she  who  now  stands  before 
you  is  evilly  talked  of,  both  on  account  of  father  and 
son." 

"The  noise  of  tongues  dies  away  like  the  surging 
of  the  water  beneath  your  feet.  It  signifies  little  what 
others  think  when  we  have  done  what  is  satisfactory 
to  our  own  consciences." 

"I  am  glad  that  you  do  not  care  for  the  talk  of 
others.  But  I  am  not  quite  so  proud  and  indepen- 
dent as  I  was.  I  conceal  my  sorrow,  but  I  feel  it  always. 
I  am  lowered  in  my  own  eyes,  and,  I  fear,  Felix,  in 
yours  also;  for  I  have  brought  on  my  own  misfortune — 
I  have  been  too  frank  with  strangers,  and  given  them 
a  right  over  me." 


516  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

"You  have  been  brought  up  to  trust  in  those  who 
hold  high  positions.  Who  can  give  up  loyal  trust  with- 
out pain?  " 

"  I  have  been  awakened,  Felix.  Now  answer  me," 
she  continued,  with  agitation,  "how  do  you  return  to 
me?" 

"As  a  weary,  erring  man,  who  seeks  the  heart  of 
his  wife  and  her  forgiveness." 

"What  has  your  wife  to  forgive,  Felix?"  she  again 
asked. 

"That  my  eyes  were  blinded,  and  that  I  forgot  my 
first  duties  to  follow  a  vain  chase." 

"  Is  that  all,  Felix  ?  "  Have  you  brought  me  back 
your  heart,  unchanged  to  me  as  it  was  before?" 

"Dear  Use,"  exclaimed  her  husband,  embracing 
her. 

"I  hear  your  tones  of  love,"  she  exclaimed,  pas- 
sionately, throwing  her  arms  round  his  neck.  She  led 
him  into  the  grotto,  stroked  the  drops  of  water  out  of 
his  damp  hair,  and  kissed  him.  "I  have  you,  my  be- 
loved one  ;  I  cling  firmly  to  you,  and  no  power  shall 
ever  again  separate  me  from  you.  Sit  here,  you  long- 
suffering  man  ;  I  hold  you  fast.  Let  me  hear  all  the 
trouble  you  have  gone  through." 

The  Scholar  held  his  wife  in  his  arms,  and  related 
all.  He  felt  her  tremble  when  he  told  her  his  adven- 
tures. 

"Indignant  anger  and  terror  impelled  me  along 
the  road  to  Rossau  after  the  Sovereign,"  he  said, 
concluding  his  account,  "and  the  delay  for  change  of 
horses  seemed  insupportable  to  me.  In  the  town  I 
found  a  crush  of  vehicles  worse  than  on  a  market-day  ; 
before  the  inn  a  confused  noise  of  wheels,  and  the  cries 
of  men,  drovers,  and  court-lackeys,  who  could  not 


IN    THE    CAVE.  517 

cross  the  water.  In  the  city  I  learned  from  strangers 
that  the  foe  of  our  happiness  had  been  overtaken  by 
a  fate  which  pursued  him  to  the  water.  We  have 
done  with  him,  and  are  free.  They  called  out  to  me 
that  the  bridge  on  the  way  to  you  was  broken.  I 
sprang  out  of  the  carriage  in  order  to  seek  the  foot- 
path over  the  hills  and  the  road  behind  the  garden. 
Then  the  dog  of  our  landlord  ran  past  me,  and  a 
coachman  from  our  city  came  up  to  me  and  stated  that 
he  had  brought  Fritz  and  Laura  to  the  town,  but  that 
they  had  gone  further  down  the  stream  in  order  to 
find  a  crossing.  You  may  believe  that  I  would  not 
wait." 

"  I  knew  that  you  would  seek  this  path,"  said  Use. 
"To-day  you  are  come  to  me — to  me  alone  ;  you  be- 
long only  to  me ;  you  are  given  to  me  anew,  betrothed 
to  me  for  the  second  time.  The  habitations  of  men 
around  us  have  disappeared ;  we  stand  alone  in  the 
wild  cave  of  the  dwarfs.  You,  my  Felix,  to  whom 
the  whole  world  belongs,  who  understand  all  the 
secrets  of  life,  who  know  the  past  and  divine  the 
future — you  have  nothing  now  for  a  shelter  but  this 
cleft  of  the  rock,  and  no  covering  but  the  kerchief  of 
poor  Anna  for  your  weary  limbs.  The  rock  is  still 
warm,  and  I  will  strew  the  grass  of  our  hills  as  a  couch 
for  you.  You  have  nothing,  my  hero  in  the  wilder- 
ness, but  the  rocks  and  herbs,  and  your  Use  by  your 
side." 

The  stillness  of  night  reigns  about ;  the  stream 
rushes  gently  around  the  roots  of  the  brambles ;  and  the 
white  mists  hang  like  a  thick  curtain  over  the  cave. 
Dusky  phantoms  glide  along  the  valley ;  they  hover, 
in  long  white  dresses,  past  the  rocky  entrance,  down 
into  the  open  country,  where  a  fresh  breath  of  air  dis- 


518  THE    LOST   MANUSCRIPT. 

solves  them.  High  above,  the  moon  spreads  its  white, 
glimmering  tent,  woven  of  rays  of  light  and  watery 
vapors;  and  the  old  juggler  laughs  merrily  over  the 
valley  and  down  upon  the  rocky  grotto.  As  the  de- 
lusive moonlight  harasses  mortals  by  its  unreal  halo,  so 
do  they  harass  themselves  by  the  pictures  of  their  own 
fancy,  in  love  and  hate,  in  good  and  bad  humor ;  their 
life  passes  away  whilst  they  are  thinking  of  their  duty 
and  err  in  doing  it,  whilst  they  seek  truth  and  dream 
in  seeking  it.  The  spirit  flies  high,  and  the  heart  beats 
warm,  but  the  hobgoblin  of  fancy  works  incessantly 
amidst  the  reality  of  life ;  the  cleverest  deceive  them- 
self,  and  the  best  are  disappointed  by  their  own  zeal. 
Sleep  in  peace,  Use.  Thou  sittest  upon  thy  low 
stone  bench  and  holdest  in  thy  lap  the  head  of  thy  hus- 
band. Even  in  this  hour  of  bliss,  thou  feelest  the  sor- 
row that  came  to  him  and  thee,  and  a  gentle  sigh 
sounds  through  the  cavern  like  the  movement  of  a 
moth's  wings  against  the  walls  of  rock.  Sleep  in  peace. 
For  thou  hast  lived,  in  the  weeks  gone  by,  through 
that  which  for  all  future  time  will  be  a  gain  to  thee. 
Thou  hast  learned  to  seek  in  the  depths  of  thy  own 
life  judgment  and  firm  resolve.  It  would  not  be  fit- 
ting, Use,  that  the  lightly-woven  tale  of  that  which 
thou  hast  suffered,  should  separately  bring  up  the  lofty 
questions  of  eternal  moment  that  thou  hast  raised — 
thy  doubts  and  thy  fierce  battles  of  conscience.  That 
were  a  too  heavy  burden  for  our  frail  bark.  Yet  as  the 
mariner  at  sea,  his  eye  fixed  upon  things  below,  rec- 
ognizes in  the  waters  beneath  the  reflection  of  the 
clouds  of  heaven,  so  will  thy  attainment  of  freedom, 
Use,  be  seen  in  the  reflection  of  thy  thoughts,  in  thy 
countenance,  thy  manner,  and  thy  conduct. 

Slumber  in  peace,  you   children  of  light !    Many  of 


TOBIAS    BACHHUBER.  519 

your  hopes  have  been  deceived,  and  much  innocent 
trust  has  been  destroyed  by  rough  reality.  The  forms 
of  a  past  time — forms  that  you  have  borne  reveren- 
tially in  your  hearts — have  laid  a  real  hold  on  your  life ; 
for  what  a  man  thinks,  and  what  a  man  dreams,  be- 
comes a  power  over  him.  What  once  has  entered  in 
the  soul  continues  to  work  actively  in  it,  exalting  and 
impelling  it  onward,  debasing  and  destroying  it. 
About  you,  too,  a  game  of  fantastic  dreams  has 
played.  If  at  times  it  has  given  you  pain,  it  has  still 
not  impaired  the  power  of  your  life,  for  the  roots  of 
your  happiness  lie  as  deep  as  it  is  granted  man,  that 
transitory  flower,  to  rest  in  the  soil  of  earth.  Slumber 
in  peace  under  the  roof  of  the  wild  rock ;  the  warm  air 
of  the  grotto  breathes  round  your  couch,  and  the  an- 
cient vaulting  of  the  roof  spreads  protectingly  over 
your  weary  eyes  !  Around  you  the  forest  sleeps  and 
dreams ;  the  old  inhabitants  of  the  rock  sit  at  the 
entrance  of  the  cave.  I  know  not  whether  they  are 
the  elves  in  whom  Use  does  not  believe,  or  the  old 
friends  of  the  scholar,  the  little  goat-footed  Pans,  who 
blow  their  sylvan  songs  on  their  reed  pipes.  They 
hold  their  fingers  to  their  mouth,  and  blow  so  gently  in 
their  pipe  that  it  sounds  sometimes  like  the  rushing 
of  the  water  or  the  soft  sigh  of  a  sleeping  bird. 

CHAPTER  XLII. 
TOBIAS    BACHHUBER. 

ILSE  gently  touched  the  head  of  her  husband.  Felix 
opened  his  eyes,  threw  his  arms  round  his  wife,  and 
for  a  moment  looked  in  confusion  at  the  wild  scene 
about  him.  The  mist  hovered  like  a  white  curtain 
before  the  opening  of  the  cave  ;  the  first  dawn  of  morn- 


520  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

ing  cast  a  glow  on  the  jagged  projections  of  the  dark 
vault ;  the  redbreast  sang,  and  the  blackbird  piped ; 
the  pure  light  of  day  was  approaching. 

"Do  you  not  hear  something?"  whispered  Use. 

"The  birds  singing,  and  the  water  rushing." 

"But  under  us,  within  the  rock,  some  strange 
power  is  at  work.  It  stirs  and  groans." 

"It  is  some  animal  from  the  wood,"  said  the  Pro- 
fessor; "a  fox  or  a  rabbit. '\ 

The  noise  about  their  seat  became  louder ;  some- 
thing was  pushing  against  the  stone  bench ;  it  was  work- 
ing and  sighing  like  a  man  who  carries  a  heavy  burden. 

"Look,"  whispered  Use,  "it  is  coming  out;  it  is 
slipping  round  our  feet.  There  sits  the  strange  thing  ; 
it  has  shining  eyes  and  a  glittering  cloak." 

The  Professor  supported  himself  on  his  hand  and 
looked  at  the  dark  spot,  where  a  small  figure  sat  with 
hairy  face,  its  body  covered  with  a  stiff,  glittering  gar- 
ment. 

They  both  looked  motionless  at  the  figure. 

"  Now  do  you  believe  in  the  spirits  of  this  place?" 
asked  her  husband,  in  a  low  tone. 

"I  am  afraid,  Felix  ;  I  distinctly  see  the  gold  of 
the  dress,  and  I  see  a  small  beard  and  a  horrible  face." 

She  raised  herself. 

"Are  you  the  Dwarf-King,  Alberich,"  asked  the 
Professor,  "and  is  the  Nibelungen  treasure  concealed 
here  ?" 

"  It  is  the  red  dog,"  cried  Use,  "he  has  a  coat  on." 

The  Professor  jumped  up  ;  the  dog  crouched  whin- 
ing before  his  feet.  The  Scholar  bent  down,  felt  a 
strange  material  round  the  body  of  the  dog,  and  took 
off  the  covering  ;  he  stepped  to  the  entrance  and  held 
it  up  in  the  dawning  light.  It  was  old  rotten  stuff, 


TOBIAS    BACHHUBER.  $21 

woven  with  golden  thread.  The  dog,  freed  from  his 
burden,  rushed  out  of  the  cave  with  a  growl.  The 
Professor  gazed  long  on  the  torn  tissue,  let  the  rag 
fall,  and  s.aid  gravely  : 

"Use,  I  am  at  the  goal  of  my  long  search*  These 
are  the  remains  of  a  priestly  vestment.  The  dog  has 
drawn  this  out  of  some  hole  into  which  he  has  crept ; 
the  treasure  of  the  monk  lies  in  this  grotto.  But  I 
have  done  with  my  hopes.  A  few  days  ago  this  dis- 
covery would  have  intoxicated  me,  now  so  dark  a  re- 
membrance is  attached  to  it  that  the  pleasure  that  I 
might  have  had  in  what  is  concealed  in  these  depths 
has  almost  all  vanished." 

There  were  loud  voices  on  the  opposite  bank. 
Hans  hallooed  again  through  the  mist;  he  greeted  his 
sister  and  Felix  who  now  came  out  from  the  cave  on 
the  broad  rock,  with  the  joyful  news — "The  water  has 
fallen."  The  other  brothers  and  sisters  rushed  after 
him  and  came  close  to  the  water  shouting  and  scream- 
ing. Franz  brought  a  sandwich  in  a  paper,  and  de- 
clared his  intention  of  throwing  this  breakfast  over  to 
them,  that  they  might  not  starve.  The  children 
contended  against  this  decision,  and  eagerly  devised  a 
plan  of  throwing  over  a  piece  of  twine  on  a  ball  and 
attaching  the  sandwich  to  it.  Life  on  the  estate  had 
again  resumed  its  ordinary  routine. 

"Has  Fritz  come ?"  asked  the  Professor,  across 
the  stream. 

"They  are  still  at  Rossau,"  called  out  Hans. 
"The  bridge  has  been  repaired  ;  Mr.  Hummel  is  up, 
and  has  gone  down  there." 

The  father  also  came,  followed  by  a  troop  of 
laborers,  who  brought  beams  and  planks.  The  men 
went  into  the  water  and  drove  a  support  into  the  soft 


$22  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

ground,  upon  which  they  laid  several  slender  tree- 
trunks  across  the  water ;  the  Professor  caught  the  rope 
which  was  thrown  to  him.  After  a  few  hours'  work  a 
small  bridge  was  erected.  The  Proprietor  was  the 
first  who  passed  over  to  his  children,  and  the  men  ex- 
changed a  grave  greeting. 

"  If  the  men  have  an  hour's  time  to  spare  during 
the  day,"  said  the  Professor,  "  they  may  do  one  last 
work  for  me  here.  The  hiding-place  of  the  monks 
was  in  this  cave." 

In  the  meantime  Mr.  Hummel  was  descending 
with  rapid  steps  towards  Rossau.  The  carpenters 
were  still  working  at  the  bridge.  He  cast  a  searching 
look  on  the  spot  where  he  had  caught  hold  of  the 
young  Prince  in  the  water  and  murmured  : 

"  He  went  down  like  a  cannon-ball.  This  nation 
has  no  capacity  for  the  sea  either  in  its  upper  or  lower 
classes, — in  this  whole  neighborhood  they  have  not  so 
much  as  a  boat.  Twenty  years  ago  there  was  one 
here,  it  is  said,  but  it  has  been  cut  up  to  boil  coffee. 
The  best  thanks  that  one  can  give  to  this  Bielstein 
man  for  the  disturbance  that  we  have  occasioned  him, 
will  be  to  send  him  a  boat  to  keep  among  his  bundles 
of  straw." 

With  these  thoughts  he  entered  the  door  of  the  Dra- 
gon ;  there  he  went  up  to  the  sleepy  landlord  and  asked  : 

"Where  is  the  young  couple  that  arrived  yesterday 
evening  ?  " 

"They  are  up  stairs,  I  suppose,"  returned  the 
latter,  indifferently  ;  "their  bill  is  to  be  paid  yet,  if  you 
will  know." 

As  he  was  about  to  ascend  to  the  upper  floor,  he 
heard  a  cry  of  joy. 

"Father,  my  father!"  exclaimed  Laura,   rushing 


TOBIAS    BACHHUBER.  523 

down  the  stairs;  she  threw  her  arms  round  his  neck, 
and  gave  vent  to  such  warm  expressions  of  tender- 
ness and  sorrow  that  Mr.  Hummel  at  once  became 
gracious. 

"  Vagrants  !"  he  exclaimed  ;  "have  I  caught  you? 
Wait  !  you  shall  pay  dearly  for  this  escapade." 

The  Doctor  also  rushed  headlong  down  stairs,  and 
greeted  Mr.  Hummel  with  outbursts  of  joy. 

"Your  carriage  will  bring  the  things  after  us; 
we  will  go  on  ahead,"  ordered  Mr.  Hummel.  "How 
did  your  Don  Juan  behave  ?"  he  asked,  in  a  low  tone, 
of  his  daughter. 

"Father,  he  took  care  of  me  like  an  angel,  and 
sat  on  a  chair  the  whole  night  before  my  door.  It  was 
terrible,  father." 

"And  how  does  the  affair  please  you?  So  ro- 
mantic !  It  calls  forth  superb  feelings,  and  one  there- 
by escapes  the  almond-cake  and  the  unseasoned  jokes 
of  the  comic  actor." 

But  Laura  pressed  up  to  her  father,  and  looked 
imploringly  at  him,  till  Mr.  Hummel  said  : 

"So  it  has  been  a  cure?  Then  I  will  joyfully  pay 
the  bill  of  the  Dragon." 

They  walked  out  of  the  door  together. 

"  How  did  she  behave  on  the  way  ?  "  he  asked  the 
Doctor,  confidentially. 

"She  was  charming,"  he  exclaimed,  pressing  the 
arm  of  the  father,  "but  in  an  anxious  state  of  mind; 
I  was  sent  up  on  the  coach-box  four  times  that  re- 
pentance overcame  her." 

"  What,  and  did  you  climb  up  ?  "  asked  Mr.  Hum- 
mel, indignantly. 

"  It  gave  me  pleasure  to  see  that  she  was  so  deeply 
affected  by  the  unusual  nature  of  the  journey." 


524  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

"  '  It  gives  me  pleasure  that  my  poodle  should  go 
into  the  water,'  said  the  flea,  and  was  drowned,"  re- 
turned Mr.  Hummel,  mockingly.  "  Why  did  you  not 
look  calmly  on  the  anxiety  of  my  child  ?  It  would 
have  saved  you  many  a  bond  if  you  had  been  firm  with 
her  the  first  day." 

"But  she  was  not  yet  my  wife,"  said  the  Doctor. 

"O,  it  was  tolerant  mischievousness,  was  it?"  re- 
plied the  father,  "may  you  bide  your  time." 

When  they  approached  the  courtyard,  the  daugh- 
ter hanging  on  the  arm  of  her  father — which  she  would 
not  let  go — he  began  : 

"Not  a  word  to-day,  now,  about  this  abominable 
elopement.  I  have  hushed  up  your  thoughtless  folly 
before  the  people  here,  and  thrown  a  mantle  over  it, 
that  you  may  be  able  to  open  your  eyes ;  you  are  an- 
nounced and  expected  as  quiet  travelers.  We  shall 
remain  here  together  to-day ;  to-morrow  I  shall  speak 
to  you,  in  my  office  of  father,  a  last  word  concerning 
your  romance. 

At  the  door  the  wanderers  were  joyfully  welcomed 
by  their  friends.  The  Professor  and  the  Doctor  em- 
braced each  other. 

"You  come  just  in  time,  Fritz;  the  adventure 
which  we  began  here  years  ago  will  conclude  to-day. 
The  treasure  of  Brother  Tobias  is  discovered." 

After  some  hours  the  whole  party  started  for  the 
cave  ;  the  laborers  followed  with  iron  crows  and  levers. 

The  Proprietor  examined  the  block  of  stone  at  the 
back  of  the  cave.  At  the  bottom  on  one  side  he  saw 
a  hole,  the  same  through. which  the  dog  had  crawled. 

"This  opening  is  new,"  he  exclaimed;  "  it  was 
closed  by  a  stone  which  has  fallen  in." 

The  large  stone    bench  was  with    some  exertion 


TOBIAS    BACHHUBER.  525 

rolled  away,  and  an  opening  wide  enough  for  a  man  to 
creep  in  without  difficulty  became  perceptible.  The 
lights  were  lowered  into  it,  and  showed  a  continuation 
of  the  cave  sloping  downwards,  which  went  many 
yards  further  into  the  mountain.  It  was  a  desolate 
space.  In  the  time  of  the  monks  it  had  undoubtedly 
been  dry,  but  was  no  longer  so.  Roots  of  trees  had 
driven  the  crevices  of  the  rock  asunder,  or  the  strata 
had  sunk,  owing  to  the  penetration  of  the  damp.  Thus 
an  entrance  had  been  given  to  water  and  animals,  and 
there  was  a  confused  mass  of  litter  from  the  wood  and 
bones.  The  workmen  cleared  it  with  their  tools,  and 
the  spectators  sat  and  stood  by,  full  of  curiosity.  The 
Professor,  in  spite  of  his  composure,  kept  as  close  to 
the  spot  as  he  could.  But  the  Doctor  could  not  long 
bear  to  look  on.  He  took  off  his  coat  and  descended 
into  the  opening.  Mouldy  pieces  of  thick  cloth  were 
brought  up  ;  probably  the  treasure  had  been  conveyed 
in  a  large  bag  to  its  place  of  concealment.  Then  came 
altar  covers  and  ecclesiastical  robes. 

There  was  a  cry  of  joy,  and  the  Doctor  handed  out 
a  book.  The  face  of  the  Professor  was  suffused  with 
color  as  he  took  it.  It  was  a  missal  on  parchment. 
He  gave  it  to  the  Proprietor,  who  now  looked  on  with 
great  interest.  The  Doctor  handed  out  a  second  book  ; 
all  pressed  near.  The  Professor  sat  on  the  ground 
and  read.  It  was  a  manuscript  of  St.  Augustine  in  a 
deplorable  condition. 

"Two  !"  he  said,  and  his  voice  sounded  hoarse 
from  inward  emotion. 

"The  Doctor  handed  a  third  book,  again  spiritual 
Latin  hymns  with  notes.  The  fourth,  a  Latin  Psalter. 
The  Professor  held  out  his  hand,  and  it  trembled. 

"Is  there  more?"  he  exclaimed. 


526  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

The  Doctor's  voice  sounded  hollow  from  the  cave. 

"There  is  nothing  more." 

"  Look  carefully,"  said  the  Professor,  with  faltering 
voice. 

"  Here  is  the  last,"  cried  the  Doctor,  handing  out 
small  square  board,  "and  here  another." 

They  were  two  book-covers  of  solid  wood,  the  out- 
side ornamented  with  carved  ivory.  The  Professor 
perceived  at  once  from  the  style  of  the  figures  that  it 
was  Byzantine  work  of  the  latest  Roman  period — the 
figure  of  an  Emperor  on  a  throne,  and  over  him  an 
angel  with  a  halo. 

"A  large  quarto  of  the  fifth  or  sixth  century.  It  is 
the  cover  of  the  manuscript,  Fritz  ;  where  is  the  text  ?" 

"There  is  no  text  to  be  found,"  again  replied  the 
sepulchral  voice  of  the  Doctor. 

"Take  the  lantern  and  throw  the  light  everywhere." 

The  Doctor  took  the  second  lantern  in.  He  felt 
with  his  hand  and  pickaxe  all  round  in  every  corner 
of  the  rock.  He  threw  the  last  blade  of  straw  out, 
and  the  la'st  remnant  of  the  bag.  There  was  nothing 
of  the  manuscript  to  be  seen — not  a  page,  not  a  letter. 

The  Professor  looked  at  the  cover. 

"They  have  torn  it  out,"  he  said,  in  a  faint  voice; 
"probably  the  monks  took  the  Roman  Emperor  in 
ivory  for  a  saint. " 

He  held  the  cover  to  the  light.  On  the  inner  side 
of  one  of  the  pieces,  amidst  dust  and  decay,  might  be 
red,  in  old  monkish  writing,  the  words  : 

"THE   TRAVELS  OF    THE  SILENT  MAN." 

The  silent  man  was  now  drawn  from  his  hiding-place. 

But  he  spoke  not :  his  mouth  remained  mute  for  ever. 

"Our  dream   is  at  an  end,"   said   the   Professor, 


TOBIAS    BACHHUBER.  527 

composedly.  "The  monks  have  torn  out  the  text 
from  the  cover,  and  left  it  behind  ;  there  was  no  more 
room  for  the  manuscript  in  the  crowded  bag.  The  treas- 
ure is  lost  to  science.  Our  hand  touches  what  was  once 
the  cover  of  the  manuscript,  and  we  cannot  help 
having  the  bitter  feeling  of  sorrow  for  what  is  irre- 
parable, the  same  as  if  it  had  passed  away  in  our  sight. 
But  we  return  to  the  light  in  possession  of  our  facul- 
ties, and  must  do  our  duty  in  making  available  to  our 
generation, and  those  who  come  after  us,  what  remains." 
"Was  this  genius  called  Bachhuber?"  exclaimed  Mr. 
Hummel ;  "judging  from  appearances,he  was  an  ass." 

The  Proprietor  laid  his  hand  on  the  shoulder  of  his 
son-in-law. 

"  After  all,  you  learned  men  have  been  in  the  right," 
he  said.  "  Close  the  opening  by  the  stone  bench 
again,"  he  said,  addressing  the  laborers;  "the  cave 
shall  remain  as  it  was." 

The  party  returned  silently  to  the  old  house.  The 
boys  carried  the  books,  the  girls  the  bundles  of  torn 
monks'  dresses,  and  made  plans  for  drawing  out  the 
gold  threads  for  themselves.  The  Professor  kept  the 
cover  of  the  lost  manuscript. 

As  they  entered  the  house  there  was  a  sound  of 
horse's  feet  on  the  other  side.  The  Proprietor  went  to 
the  door.  The  old  Chief  Forester  drew  in  his  black 
horse. 

"I  have  ridden  in  haste  through  the  farm  to  bring 
you  news.  Everything  with  us  is  topsy-turvy.  We 
have  Court  Officials  and  Ministers,  and  doctors  are 
fetched  from  every  quarter.  My  people  have  all  been 
sent  out,  and  I  myself  have  come  to  Rossau  to  order 
a  courier.  I  fear  his  Serene  Highness  is  very  low; 
he  knows  no  one.  The  Hereditary  Prince  is  now 


528  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

awaiting  the  arrival  of  the  Court  physician  ;  as  soon  as 
he  gives  permission  the  party  will  start  for  the  capital. 
All  these  terrible  things  are  owing  to  the  unfortunate 
additions  to  my  quiet  dwelling.  One  thing  more, 
while  it  occurs  to  me — your  son-in-law  is  searching  for 
old  papers  and  books.  There  are  some  chests  at  our 
place  containing  such  lumber  of  ancient  times,  when 
the  ranger's  lodge  was  still  a  royal  shooting-box. 
Over  the  door,  from  under  the  plaster,  one  can  dis- 
cover a  foreign  word,  solitttdini,  which  means,  they 
say,  'in  solitude.'  The  chests  are  rotten  :  in  the  course 
of  the  building  they  have  been  moved  from  their  place. 
When  things  become  quieter  with  us  the  Professor 
will,  perhaps,  look  over  them." 

"Then  here  is  the  Castle  Solitude,  with  the  genuine 
chests  of  the  official,"  exclaimed  the  Professor.  "I 
shall  never  go  to  that  house." 

The  Doctor  seized  his  hat,  and  spoke  in  a  low  tone 
to  Laura  and  the  Proprietor. 

"I  beg  leave  of  absence  for  to-day,"  he  said,  going 
out. 

He  did  not  return  till  evening. 

"  In  the  chest  there  are  accounts  for  repairs  to  the 
monastic  buildings  and  for  the  estate  at  the  end  of  the 
seventeenth  century  ;  there  are,  besides,  some  volumes 
of  Corneille.  The  vicar  who  went  to  America  is  re- 
lated to  the  Chief  Forester." 

"We  have  been  led  astray,"  said  the  Professor, 
calmly.  "  It  is  well  that  every  doubt  has  disappeared." 

"  But,"  replied  the  Doctor,  "  there  is  still  no  proof 
that  the  old  manuscript  is  destroyed.  It  is  yet  pos- 
sible that  it  may  come  to  light  somewhere  in  frag- 
ments. Who  knows  but  there  may  be  strips  on  the 
back  of  some  books  ?  " 


TOBIAS    BACHHUBER.  529 

"On  the  books  which  the  Swede  has  written  in 
characters  of  fire  at  Rossau,"  replied  the  Professor, 
with  a  sad  smile.  "  It  is  well,  Fritz,  that  the  torment- 
ing spirits  are  forever  banished." 

Early  on  the  morning  of  the  following  day  a  line  of 
carriages  left  the  ranger's  lodge ;  the  first  was  closely 
curtained — it  was  the  prostrate  Sovereign,  guarded  by 
his  physicians.  Before  starting,  the  Hereditary  Prince 
beckoned  the  Chief  Forester  to  his  carriage  : 

"Is  there  any  other  way  to  Rossau  than  that  by 
the  manor-house  through  the  Bielstein  estate?" 

"Over  the  ridge  through  the  wood,"  replied  the 
Chief  Forester;  "but  it  is  a  roundabout  way." 

"We  will  take  the  road  through  the  wood,"  com- 
manded the  Hereditary  Prince.  On  the  way  he  said 
to  his  attendant  :  "I  expect  from  you,  Weidegg,  that, 
should  occasion  present  itself,  you  will  show  consid- 
erate attention  to  the  people  who  dwell  in  that  house. 
I  am  the  son  of  the  sick  Sovereign  to  whom  a  voice  re- 
fused reception  there.  I  shall,  therefore,  never  again 
cross  the  threshold  of  that  house  ;  and  I  wish  that  you 
never  again  mention  the  name  of  that  woman  in  my 
presence." 

The  sad  procession  passed  close  by  the  spot  where 
once  the  lightning  had  struck  the  pine-tree.  The  car- 
riages moved  at  a  slow  pace  along  the  ridge  of  hills 
upon  the  forest-road. 

"Drive  on  ahead,"  said  the  Prince;  "I  will  walk 
a  short  distance  alone." 

He  stepped  to  the  edge  of  the  hill ;  the  early  dawn 
tinged  the  dark  bushes  of  heather  with  a  golden  green. 
From  that  same  height,  where  once  a  merry  party  had 
rested,  the  Prince  looked  down  on  Bielstein,  which 
stood  out  in  the  white  morning  mist,  on  the  roof  and 


530  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

balconies  of  the  old  house.  Long  he  stood  motionless  ; 
the  bell  sounded  from  the  village  church  through  the 
mountain  air ;  he  bent  his  head  till  the  last  echoes  of 
the  melancholy  tones  passed  away ;  then  he  stretched 
his  hand  greetingly  towards  the  manor,  turned  quickly 
back,  and  went  along  the  forest-road. 


* 
* 


The  cocks  crowed  in  the  farmyard  at  Bielstein,  the 
sparrows  twittered  in  the  vine  arbor,  and  the  people 
were  preparing  for  the  day's  work.  Then  Mr.  Hum- 
mel knocked  three  times  with  his  ponderous  fist  at  the 
door  of  the  room  in  which  his  daughter  slept. 

"Get  up,  eloper,"  he  shouted,  "if  you  still  wish  to 
take  leave  of  your  forsaken  father." 

There  was  a  noise  in  the  room  and  a  pattering  of 
slippers,  and  Laura's  head  peeped  through  the  open- 
ing in  the  door. 

"Father,  you  are  not  going  to  leave  us  !  "  she  said 
pleadingly. 

"You  have  left  me, "  replied  Mr.  Hummel;  "we 
must  have  a  few  final  words  together.  Dress  yourself 
properly,  and  you  shall  accompany  me  down  the  hill. 
I  will  wait  for  you  in  the  hall." 

He  had  to  wait  some  time  for  his  daughter,  and 
paced  impatiently  up  and  down,  looking  at  his 
watch. 

"Gabriel, "he  said  to  the  servant,  who  came  up  to 
him  in  his  best  attire,  "much  misfortune  arises  from 
women's  long  hair.  It  is  on  that  account  that  they 
never  can  be  ready  at  the  right  time  ;  this  is  their  priv- 
ilege by  which  they  vex  us,  and  it  is  on  that  account 
that  they  maintain  they  are  the  weaker  sex.  Order 
and  punctuality  will  never  be  obtained  unless  all  wom- 
ankind have  their  pig-tails  cut  off  on  one  day." 


TOBIAS    BACHHUBER.  53! 

Laura  glided  down  the  stairs,  clung  to  her  father's 
arm,  and  stroked  his  cheeks  with  her  little  hand. 

''Come  into  the  garden,  my  little  actress,"  he 
said;  "I  must  speak  to  you  alone  for  a  few  min- 
utes. You  have  succeeded  in  eloping,  you  have  gone 
through  the  scandal, — in  what  state  of  mind  are  you 
now?" 

"Uneasy,  dear  father,"  said  Laura,  dejectedly. 
"I  know  that  it  was  a  folly,  and  Use  says  so  too." 

"  Then  it  must  be  so,"  replied  Mr.  Hummel,  dryly. 
"What  is  now  to  become  of  you?" 

"Whatever  you  wish,  father,"said  Laura.  "Fritz 
and  I  are  of  opinion  that  we  must  follow  your  wishes 
unconditionally.  I  have  by  my  folly  lost  all  right  of 
expressing  a  wish;  if  I  could  still  venture  to  make  a 
request,"  she  said,  timidly,  "I  should  like  to  remain 
here  for  a  short  time." 

"Then  you  wish  to  get  rid  of  your  seducer?  " 

"  He  is  going  back  to  his  parents,  and  we  will  wait, 
my  father,  until  he  has  an  appointment  at  the  Uni- 
versity :  he  has  prospects." 

"Indeed,"  said  Mr.  Hummel,  shaking  his  head. 
"All  that  would  have  been  very  sensible  before  the 
elopement ;  now  it  is  too  late.  Your  banns  have  been 
published  in  church,  now,  three  times." 

"The  people  would  not  have  it  otherwise,"  con- 
tinued Mr.  Hummel.  "When  it  was  known  that  you 
had  eloped,  the  clergy  could  not  avoid  publishing  the 
banns ;  you  had  not  been  long  out  of  the  gate  when 
this  calamity  took  place." 

Laura  stood  terrified,  and  a  burning  red  suffused 
her  cheeks.  The  bells  of  the  little  church  by  the  wood 
below  sounded.  Mr.  Hummel  took  a  paper  out  of  his 
pocket. 


532  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

"Here  are  those  cursed  old  godmother's  gloves; 
I  wish  at  last  to  get  rid  of  the  trash.  Here  you  have 
your  dowry,  I  can  give  you  nothing  more ;  put  them 
on  quickly,  that  people  may  at  least  observe  by  your 
hands  that  this  is  a  festive  day  for  you.  When  it 
comes  to  the  business  of  the  wedding-ring  you  can 
easily  take  them  off." 

"Father,"  cried  Laura,  wringing  her  hands. 

"You  could  not  bear  the  idea  of  a  wedding-cake," 
said  Mr.  Hummel,  "so  you  must  do  without  a  wed- 
ding-dress, and  many  other  things.  These  dramatic 
attitudes  would  have  been  very  suitable  before  the 
elopement,  now  you  must  be  married  without  question 
either  immediately,  or  not  at  all.  Do  you  think  that 
one  goes  out  into  the  world  for  a  joke?" 

"My  mother!"  exclaimed  Laura,  and  the  tears 
rolled  from  her  eyes. 

"You  chose  to  run  away  from  your  mother,  and  if 
your  father,  out  of  consideration  for  these  strangers, 
had  not  come,  you  would  have  had  to  do  the  business 
alone.  You  wished  to  escape  from  our  homely,  simple 
feelings." 

Laura  laid  hold  of  a  tree  with  trembling  hands,  and 
looked  imploringly  at  her  father. 

"You  are  not  so  bold  as  I  thought.  Now  the  timid 
hare  in  you  comes  to  light." 

Laura  threw  herself  on  her  father's  breast  and 
sobbed  ;  he  stroked  her  curls. 

"  Little  Hummel,"  he  said,  kindly,  "there  must  be 
punishment,  and  it  is  not  severe ;  I  am  satisfied  that 
you  should  marry  him.  He  is  a  worthy  man ;  I  have 
observed  that ;  and  if  it  is  for  your  happiness,  I  shall 
easily  get  on  with  him,  but  you  must  not  immediately 
begin  to  hum  and  buzz  if  I  sometimes  bristle  up  in  my 


TOBIAS    BACHHUBER.  533 

way.  I  wish,  too,  that  you  should  marry  him  to-day, 
that  is  now  the  best  course  for  all  parties.  You  may 
exercise  your  bridal  feelings  later  and  go  through  your 
emotions  as  you  like.  Be  brave,  now,  my  child,  the 
others  are  waiting,  and  we  must  not  delay  them.  Are 
you  ready?" 

Laura  wept,  but  a  soft  "Yes"  was  heard. 

"Then  we  will  awake  the  bridegroom,"  said  Mr. 
Hummel.  "  I  believe  the  sacrificial  lamb  sleeps  with- 
out any  foreboding  of  his  fate." 

He  left  his  daughter,  hastened  to  the  Doctor's  door, 
and  looked  into  the  room.  Fritz  lay  fast  asleep.  Mr. 
Hummel  seized  the  boots  which  were  standing  before 
the  door  and  bumped  them  down  beside  the  bed. 

"Good  morning,  Don  Juan, "  he  shouted  ;  "have 
the  kindness  to  get  immediately  into  this  leather. 
These  are  your  bridal  boots.  My  daughter  Laura 
begs  you  to  make  haste,  and  the  clergyman  is  im- 
patient." 

The  Doctor  sprang  out  of  his  bed. 

"Are  you  in  earnest?"  he  asked. 

"Terribly  in  earnest,"  said  Hummel. 

He  did  not  have  to  wait  long  for  the  Doctor.  He 
entered  the  garden  where  Laura  was  still  sitting  alone 
in  the  bower,  uneasy,  like  an  imprisoned  bird  that 
does  not  venture  to  leave  its  cage.  Mr.  Hummel  led 
the  Doctor  up  to  her. 

"  There,  you  have  her,"  he  said  solemnly.  "It  is 
a  fine  morning,  just  like  that  when  I  set  out  as  a 
boy.  To-day  I  send  my  child  into  the  world,  and 
that  is  another  kind  of  feeling.  I  do  not  object  to  it 
if  you  live  happily  together,  till  first  your  children  run 
away  from  you  into  the  world,  and  then  the  grand- 
children :  for  man  is  like  a  bird,  he  takes  pains  and 


534  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

collects  the  bits  of  straw  together  for  his  home,  but 
the  young  brood  do  not  care  for  the  nest  of  the  parents. 
Thus  the  old  raven  must  now  sit  alone  and  find  few 
who  will  be  vexed  with  his  croaking.  Take  my  stub- 
born girl,  dear  Fritz,  and  do  not  let  her  have  too  much 
of  her  own  will.  I  have  watched  you  for  some  time, 
and  I  will  tell  you  something  in  confidence  :  ever  since 
the  affair  of  the  cat's-paws  it  occurred  to  me,  that  in 
the  end  you  would  be  no  bad  husband  for  this  Hum- 
mel. That  you  are  called  Hahn  is,  after  all,  only  a 
misfortune."  He  kissed  them  both  right  heartily. 
"Now  come,  runaways,  for  the  others  are  expecting 
you." 

Mr.  Hummel  walked  before  his  children  to  the 
house  ;  he  opened  the  door  of  the  sitting-room  where 
the  whole  family  were  assembled.  Laura  flew  to  Use, 
and  concealed  her  hot  face  on  the  breast  of  her  friend. 
The  latter  took  the  bridal  wreath,  which  her  sisters 
had  brought,  and  placed  it  on  Laura's  head.  Gabriel 
opened  the  door.  Years  before  the  Doctor  had  drawn 
his  friend  from  the  bramble  bush  against  the  wall  into 
the  church ;  now  he  walked  into  the  little  village 
church  hand  in  hand  with  his  love,  and  again  the 
children  strewed  flowers.  When  the  clergymen  joined 
the  hands  of  the  bridal  pair,  Use  also  clasped  the  hand 
of  her  husband. 

"Your  mother  is  wanting,"  said  Hummel,  to  the 
bride,  when  she  embraced  him  after  the  wedding ; 
"and  the  Doctor's  family  also.  But  you  are  citizen's 
children,  and  however  exalted  your  feelings  may  be 
you  must  accommodate  yourself  to  our  customs.  You 
will  go  from  here  back  to  your  native  town.  There 
your  mothers  will  keep  the  after-nuptials,  and  you, 
runaway,  shall  not  escape  the  bad  poetry.  You  must 


TOBIAS    BACHHUBER.  535 

excuse  me  if  I  am  not  at  home  on  that  day ;  I  have  to 
make  a  business  journey,  and  it  is  not  suitable  to 
marry  one's  child  twice  in  a  week."  He  then  said,  in 
a  low  tone  to  his  daughter:  "between  ourselves,  I 
do  not  wish  to  peck  of  the  same  wedding-cake  with 
the  Hahn  family.  You  are  not  to  live  with  me,  nor 
in  the  house  over  the  way  : — that  has  been  advised  by 
our  friends,  and  I  think  it  quite  right.  After  the 
marriage  feast  you  may  travel  for  some  weeks,  and 
then  return  to  your  own  home. " 

"The  bridal  journey  you  will  make  alone,"  said 
the  Professor;  "not  with  us.  Use  and  I  have  deter- 
mined, after  a  short  rest,  to  return  to  the  city.  I  have 
some  months  of  the  vacation  still  before  me  which  I 
shall  endeavour  to  make  of  use  to  a  select  circle  of 
students.  Among  books  we  shall  again  find  what  we 
lost  among  strangers, — peace  with  ourselves,  and  peace 
with  those  about  us." 

It  was  about  Easter  the  following  year.  Mr.  Hum- 
mel and  Gabriel  stood  dressed  in  festive  black  before 
the  door  of  No.  i,  Park  Street. 

"I  was  to  see  her,  Gabriel,"  began  Mr.  Hummel, 
confidentially.  "I  took  the  money  to  her  this  time 
myself,  because  you  wished  it.  I  inquired  concerning 
her  of  the  people  at  the  Inn  and  of  the  neighbors. 
She  behaves  with  modesty,  and  her  character  is  greatly 
changed.  Much  water,  Gabriel,"  and  he  pointed  to 
his  eyes. 

"You  were  kind  to  her  ?  "  asked  Gabriel,  faintly. 

"As  a  lamb,"  replied  Mr.  Hummel,  "  and  she  the 
same.  The  room  was  poor,  one  picture  only  hung 
there  without  a  frame,  Gabriel,  as  a  remembrance  of 


536  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

her  happy  position  in  that  house.  It  was  a  cock  with 
golden  feathers." 

Gabriel  turned  away. 

"At  last  the  place  became  too  moist  for  my  dry 
constitution,  but  care  has  been  taken  of  her.  She  is 
to  be  placed  in  a  respectable  business  as  a  saleswoman, 
and  as  for  the  illegitimate  Knips,  the  ladies  will  take 
care  of  him.  I  have  spoken  with  Madame  Hummel, 
and  she  with  the  Hahn  woman  over  the  way  ;  they 
will  arrange  for  the  charitable  collections.  But  as  far 
as  you  are  concerned,  Gabriel,  with  all  respect, — what 
is  too  much  is  too  much." 

Mr.  Hummel  respectfully  seized  Gabriel's  waist- 
coat button,  and  twisted  the  averted  face  as  by  a  screw 
round  to  himself.  Then  he  looked  into  the  sad  eyes  for 
some  time  without  saying  a  word,  but  they  both  under- 
stood each  other. 

"It  was  a  hard  time,  it  was  a  mad  time,  Gabriel, 
in  every  point  of  view,"  began  Mr.  Hummel,  at  last, 
shaking  his  head ;  "  what  we  went  through  with 
princes  was  no  trifle." 

"  He  was  very  light,"  said  Gabriel,  "and  I  carried 
him  like  a  feather." 

"That  is  nothing  to  the  purpose,"  said  Mr.  Hum- 
mel ;  "the  affair  was  creditable.  Just  think  what  it  is 
to  have  saved  a  young  Sovereign.  That  few  of  us  can 
do.  For  a  moment,  ambitious  thoughts  came  into  my 
head — that  is  to  say,  the  Chamberlain,  no  ill-disposed 
man  and  an  old  acquaintance  of  ours,  sounded  me 
on  a  delicate  point  when  he  last  called." 

"  He  also  sent  for  me,"  interposed  Gabriel,  with 
dignity.  "Prince  Victor  had  commissioned  him  to 
send  his  respects,  and  to  say  that  the  Prince  was  to 
marry  the  Princess." 


TOBIAS    BACHHUBER.  537 

' '  Even  this  kind  of  householder  becomes  domestic, " 
said  Mr.  Hummel,  "that  is  at  least  a  beginning. 
Well,  the  Chamberlain  assured  me  of  his  Serene  High- 
ness's  gratitude,  made  eloquent  speeches,  and  probed 
me  at  last  with  a  'predicate.'*  Do  you  know  what 
that  is  ?  " 

"Hum,"  said  Gabriel,  "if  it  is  something  that  is 
given  away  at  that  Court  it  would  be  like  a  colored 
tobacco  pouch  without  any  tobacco  in  it ;  it  must  be  a 
title." 

"You  have  hit  it,"  said  Mr.  Hummel.  "What  do 
you  think  of  Sir  Court  Hat  Maker  and  Householder, 
Henry  Hummel  ?  " 

"A  swindle,"  replied  Gabriel. 

"Right,  it  was  a  weakness;  but  I  overcame  it  at 
the  right  time.  Then  I  asked  this  Chamberlain,  'what 
would  you  expect  of  me '  ?  '  Nothing  at  all,'  he  said, 
'  except  that  you  should  carry  on  a  distinguished  busi- 
ness ! '  'That  is  the  case  now,'  I  said.  '  But  what  hats 
will  they  expect  me  to  keep  ?  '  For  he,  who  has  had 
experience  like  mine,  becomes  suspicious ,  and  look 
you,  Gabriel,  then  the  fraud  came  out,  for  what  was 
his  idea  and  expectation  ?  I  was  in  his  eyes  a  man 
who  dealt  in  straw  hats.  Then  I  thanked  him  for  the 
honor,  and  turned  my  back  to  him." 

"But,"  said  Gabriel,  "there  should  be  some  con- 
cession with  regard  to  this  matter ;  we  are  on  good 
terms  now  with  the  people  over  there  ;  and  if  you  have 
given  your  daughter  to  the  family,  why  not  also  an 
article  of  business  ?  " 

"Do  not  interfere  in  my  affairs,"  said  Mr.  Hum- 
mel, irritably.  "It  is  bad  enough  that  I,  as  father, 
and  in  a  certain  degree  as  neighbor,  have  been 

*  A  title. 


538  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

obliged  to  give  up  my  old  grudge.  How  can  one 
irritate  oneself  now,  when  one  is  obliged  to  have  one's 
hand  pressed  here,  and  to  drink  family  punch  under 
the  cursed  Muse  there  ?  No,  I  was  a  weak  father,  and 
as  a  neighbor,  an  inexcusably  fickle  man.  But,  Gab- 
riel, even  the  worm  which  is  trod  upon  keeps  its  sting. 
And  my  sting  is  my  business.  There  the  enmity  still 
remains.  Every  spring,  vindictiveness ;  and  every 
winter,  triumph.  I  have  lost  my  child  and  made  over 
my  money  to  a  coxcomb,  but  I  am  still  man  enough 
to  hold  my  own  against  the  fellow  across  the  way." 

He  looked  at  the  empty  place  on  the  door-steps, 
where  his  dog  Spitehahn  formerly  used  to  sit. 

"I  miss  him,"  continued  Mr.  Hummel,  pointing 
significantly  to  the  ground. 

"  He  is  gone,"  said  Gabriel. 

"  He  was  a  dog  after  my  own  heart,"  continued 
Mr.  Hummel,  slowly;  "and  I  have  an  idea.  What 
do  you  think,  Gabriel,  if  we  were  to  erect  a  monument 
to  him  in  the  garden.  Here  near  the  street;  there 
would  only  be  a  low  stone  and  upon  it  a  single  word — 
'Spitehahn.'  When  the  doors  stand  open  one  could 
read  it  across  the  street.  It  would  be  a  memorial  of 
the  poor  beast,  and  especially  of  the  good  time  when 
one  could  pluck  the  feathers  of  a  Hahn  without  being 
indicted  for  infanticide." 

"That  will  not  do,"  replied  Gabriel.  "What  would 
the  son  in-law's  people  over  the  way  say  to  it  ?  " 

"The  devil !  "  exclaimed  Mr.  Hummel,  and  turned 
away. 

Yes,  Spitehahn  had  disappeared  from  the  world. 
Since  that  hour,  when  in  the  dim  grey  of  the  morning 
he  had  wound  round  him  the  golden  dress  of  the  de- 
ceased Bachhuber  like  a  ruff,  he  had  disappeared. 


TOBIAS    BACHHUBER.  539 

No  inquiries  and  no  offers  of  reward  had  enabled  Mr. 
Hummel  to  obtain  a  trace  of  him.  In  vain  were  the 
shepherds  and  laborers  of  the  neighborhood,  and  even 
the  magistrates  of  Rossau,  set  in  movement — he  had 
vanished  like  a  spirit.  The  place  on  the  steps  re- 
mained empty ;  the  blank  which  he  had  left  behind  in 
society  was  filled  by  a  younger  race  of  dogs  in  Park 
Street ;  the  neighborhood  in  every  walk  along  the  street 
felt  a  satisfaction  which  they  had  long  been  deprived  of ; 
the  cigar  dealer  again  placed  his  stand  near  Mr.  Hum- 
mel's  garden;  and  the  young  ladies  in  white  dresses, 
who  went  to  the  Park,  gradually  gave  up  the  custom 
of  turning  away  from  Mr.  Hummel's  house,  and  going 
over  to  the  straw  side.  The  memory  of  Spitehahn 
passed  away  without  regret  from  any ;  only  with  the 
old  inmates  of  the  street  the  remembrance  of  him  re- 
mained as  a  dark  tradition.  Gabriel  alone  thought  of 
the  lost  one  evenings  when  he  saved  the  bones  for  mis- 
cellaneous dogs  of  the  neighborhood.  But  he  did  not 
wonder  at  the  disappearance  of  the  animal :  he  had 
long  known  that  something  mysterious  must  sometime 
or  other  happen  to  him. 

There  came  a  confirmation  of  this  view,  which  fur- 
nished food  for  thought  for  the  rest  of  Gabriel's  life  ;  for 
when,  in  the  following  autumn,  he  again  went  in  com- 
pany with  his  master  and  mistress  to  visit  the  Manor- 
house  of  Bielstein,  directly  upon  his  arrival  he  begged 
permission  to  have  an  afternoon's  holiday,  and,  as 
he  often  did  now,  walked  alone  with  his  thoughts. 
He  went  in  the  wood,  far  past  the  ranger's  lodge, 
amongst  large  mossy  beech-trees,  ferns,  and  bilber- 
ries. It  was  evening,  and  a  grey  twilight  overtook 
the  wanderer  ;  he  was  uncertain  of  his  direction,  and, 
somewhat  uneasy,  sought  the  road  to  the  house. 


54O  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

Thunder  rolled  in  the  distance,  and  sometimes  a  bright 
flash  of  lightning  passed  over  the  heavens,  and  for  a 
moment  lighted  up  the  trunks  o'f  the  trees  and  the 
mossy  ground.  Amid  a  bright  flash  he  saw  himself 
suddenly  on  a  cross-road  ;  he  started  back,  for  a  few 
steps  from  him  a  great  dark  figure  was  moving  across 
the  path,  with  a  broad-brimmed  felt  hat  on  his  head 
and  a  weapon  on  his  shoulder ;  it  glided  by  noise- 
lessly and  without  greeting.  Gabriel  stood  astonished  ; 
again  a  flash,  and  along  the  same  road  ran  two  dogs, 
a  black  and  a  red  cur,  with  huge  heads  and  bristly 
hair  :  suddenly  the  red  one  stopped  and  turned  towards 
Gabriel,  who  saw  at  the  back  of  the  dog  a  tuft  which 
it  wagged.  The  next  moment  there  was  profound 
darkness,  and  Gabriel  heard  at  his  feet  a  slight  whim- 
pering, and  it  appeared  to  him  as  if  something  licked 
his  boot.  Another  slight  noise,  and  then  all  was 
still. 

The  people  on  the  estate  maintain  that  it  was  a 
poacher,  or  the  great  deer-stealer  from  the  other  side 
of  the  frontier  ;  but  Gabriel  knew  who  the  night- hunter 
was,  and  what  the  dog  was.  He  who  had  before  sent 
the  dog  to  Hummel's  house,  without  money  and  with- 
out name,  had  also  called  him  away.  The  hound  now 
barked  again  in  the  night,  when  the  storm  blew  like  a 
hunting-horn,  when  the  clouds  flew  under  the  moon, 
and  the  trees  bent  their  heads,  groaning,  to  the  earth. 
Then  he  ran  over  the  hills  from  Rossau,  through  the 
grounds  of  Bielstein ;  he  howled,  and  the  moon  laughed 
mockingly  down  on  the  place  in  which  Tobias  Bach- 
huber  had  deposited  his  treasures,  and  among  them 
the  cover  of  the  lost  manuscript. 

But  if  no  observer  could  be  in  doubt  as  to  the  fate 
of  the  dog,  far  more  uncertain  is  the  judgment  of  the 


TOBIAS    BACHHUBER.  541 

present  day  concerning  another  figure  which  hovers 
about  the  grotto. 

What  can  thy  fate  be,  unfortunate  Brother  Tobias 
Bachhuber?  Thy  conduct  towards  the  manuscript 
we  have  been  seeking  transcends  everything  one  could 
have  expected  of  a  Tobias.  It  is  much  to  be  feared 
that  thy  disregard  of  the  highest  interests  of  mankind 
may  have  injured  thy  social  position  in  the  other  world. 
Grievous  doubts  arise,  Bachhuber,  as  to  thy  heavenly 
happiness :  for  the  wrong  that  thou  hast  done  to  us 
would  have  drawn  tears  from  an  angel.  To  us  mor- 
tals it  is  impossible  to  think  of  thee  with  the  confidence 
which  thy  true-hearted  words  would  impress  upon  us  : 
hcec  omnia  deposut, — I  have  deposited  all  this._  That 
was  an  untruth,  Bachhuber,  and  the  wounds  of  de- 
ceived confidence  will  always  bleed  afresh. 

Answer  my  question,  Tobias — what  views  didst 
thou  hold  of  the  unity  of  the  human  race  ?  of  the  bonds 
of  union  binding  the  souls  of  men  of  past  ages  with 
the  souls  of  men  of  the  present?  or  of  that  stupendous 
net-work,  humanity,  in  which  thou  wert  a  mesh  ?  Thy 
views  were  pitiable,  indeed.  Thou  didst  stuff  the  great 
manuscript,  the  hope  of  our  century,  into  a  bag  and 
thou  didst  rip  out  the  text  when  thou  foundest  the  bag 
too  full,  and  didst  carefully  preserve  the  covers  for 
later  generations  !  For  shame,  thrice  for  shame  ! 

And  yet,  withal,  thou  didst  ever  hover  restlessly 
about  the  cave  of  the  forest,  and  since  Swedish  times 
didst  bustle  about  unceasingly  in  the  rooms  of  the  old 
house  ! 

Why  didst  thou  do  that,  Tobias,  silly  monk  ?  Is  't 
possible  that  thou  hadst  something  in  store,  that  thou 
wast  guarding  something,  for  the  happiness  of  those 
who  came  after  thee,  that  thou  wert,  after  all,  laboring 


542  THE    LOST   MANUSCRIPT. 

for  the  unity  of  mankind  that  we  said  thou  hadst  no 
conception  of? 

Yes,  a  treasure  was  found.  It  did  not  have  the  ap- 
pearance that  our  scholars  thought  it  would,  when 
their  glance  first  rested  on  the  faded  letters  of  thy 
record.  The  treasure  that  both  the  scholars  found, 
had  clenched  fists,  and  dimpled  cheeks,  and  sweet, 
bright  eyes.  Their  treasure  came  to  them  alive,  nor 
was  it  of  the  silent  kind.  Bachhuber,  can  it  be  that 
thou  hast  frivolously  transcended  the  rules  of  thy 
order  ?  Was  it  thou  that  set  down  this  treasure  in  the 
'dry  hollow  place'  commonly  called  a  cradle?  in  the 
cradles  of  two  homes  ? 

To-day  there  is  a  great  christening  at  the  Profes- 
sor's house — a  double  one.  The  Professor's  son  is 
called  Felix,  and  the  Doctor's  young  daughter  Corn- 
elia. Almost  at  the  same  time  the  children  resolved 
to  narrow  the  space  of  the  over-crowded  world  by  their 
appearance.  The  sponsors  of  the  boy  are  Professor 
Raschke  and  Mrs.  Struvelius  ;  the  sponsors  of  the  girl 
are  Professor  Struvelius  and  Mrs.  Raschke ;  but  Mr. 
Hummel  is  godfather  for.  both,  stands  in  the  middle 
and  swings  first  one,  and  then  the  other  godchild. 

"I  am  delighted  that  yours  is  a  boy,"  he  said, 
to  the  Professor;  "he  will  be  fair  and  jolly.  For 
womankind  is  rapidly  getting  the  upper  hand,  and 
will  soon  become  too  powerful  for  us ;  we  must 
strengthen  ourselves  by  an  increase,  otherwise  a  com- 
plete revolution  will  take  place.  I  am  delighted  that 
yours  is  a  girl, "  he  said,  to  his  daughter ;  ' '  the  creature 
is  dark  and  bristly ;  it  will  be  no  Hahn,  but  a 
Hummel." 

The  christening  is  over,  and  Professor  Raschke 
raises  his  glass. 


TOBIAS    BACHHUBER.  543 

There  are  two  new  human  souls  in  the  kingdom  of 
books,  two  more  scholars'  children  in  our  blustering, 
curious,  pedantic,  and  whimsical  community.  You 
children  will  take  your  first  riding-lessons  on  your 
fathers'  folios  ;  you  will  make  your  first  helmet  and 
your  first  dress  from  your  fathers'  proof-sheets  :  you 
will  regard,  earlier  than  others,  with  secret  terror  the 
books  that  surround  your  rosy  youth.  But  we  hope 
that  you  too  will  help  preserve  for  a  future  generation 
the  proud  and  lofty  spirit  with  which  your  fathers  have 
dedicated  their  lives  to  science,  to  thought,  and  to 
creative  activity.  You  too,  be  you  man  or  woman, 
must  become  the  faithful  guardians  of  the  ideals  of 
our  people.  You  will  find  a  national  spirit  that  takes 
a  stronger  flight  and  makes  higher  demands  on  its 
intellectual  leaders.  As  we  in  the  present,  so  you  in 
the  future,  will  often  be  accorded  a  smile.  But  see  to 
it  that  it  be  kindly.  And  see  to  it  that  the  office  that 
has  come  to  you  from  your  fathers,  remain  worthy  of 
the  people.  And  see  to  it  that  you  too  shall  acquit 
yourselves  as  steadfast  and  honest  workers  in  the  fields 
of  Science — true  to  your  faith  in  the  good  genius  of 
this  our  life." 

Raschke  spoke  :  and  waved  his  glass. 

"  Pray,  Professor  Raschke  !  "  exclaimed  Mrs.  Stru- 
velius  ;  "  you  have  my  glass.  My  gloves  are  in  it.  Do 
not  drink  them,  I  beseech  you  !  " 

"True  enough,"  said  Raschke,  apologetically  ;  and 
he  poured  with  measured  deliberation  the  wine  from 
the  flask  on  the  gloves,  to  join  with  great  appreciation 
in  the  toast  he  had  offered. 

But  in  the  dimly,  lighted  corner,  by  the  book-case, 
whereon  the  tiny  record  of  our  loved  Brother  lay,  ap- 
peared the  humble  figure  of  Bachhuber, — Tobias 


544  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

Bachhuber,  observed  by  no  one — in  the  resemblance 
of  a  nurse.  He  greeted,  and  graciously  bowed  his 
thanks. 

When  the  friends  had  departed,  Use  sat  on  the 
sofa,  the  child  before  her  in  her  lap.  Felix  knelt  at 
her  side,  and  both  looked  down  upon  the  young  life 
between  them. 

"  It  is  so  small,  Felix,"  said  Use;  "and  yet  all 
that  was  and  all  that  is,  does  not  make  the  mother  so 
happy  as  the  soft  beating  of  the  little  heart  in  its 
breast." 

"Restlessly  the  thinking  mind  struggles  after  the 
eternal, "  exclaimed  the  Scholar ;  "but  he  who  holds 
wife  and  child  to  his  heart,  feels  forevermore  united 
in  holy  peace  with  the  high  power  of  life." 

The  cradle  rocked,  as  if  moved  by  spirit  hands. 
Thus  does  the  treasure  look,  blessed  Bachhuber,  that 
thy  active  hand  has  helped  bestow  upon  a  future  race. 
Thou  hast  not  acted  well  by  us.  Thou  hast  done  us 
wrong.  But  when  we  think  how  studiously  active  thou 
wast,  in  the  old  manor-house  and  elsewhere,  to  per- 
form, to  the  glory  of  coming  generations,  the  kindly 
offices  of  a  match-maker,  we  cannot  be  angry  with  thee 
on  this  solemn,  festive  occasion.  All  in  all,  we  must 
say  thou  wert  an  unfortunate,  ill-starred  fellow,  and 
hast  been  the  cause  of  much  trouble.  But  thy  heart 
was  kind.  And  after  all,  Tobias,  thou  hast  been  taken 
up  into  heaven — with  a  question-mark  it  is  true  : 
for  thou  shalt  ever  wear  on  the  back  of  thy  celestial 
cowl  a  tag  of  Satan's  making — a  mark  for  all  future  time 
of  thy  dealings  with  the  lost  manuscript  of  Tacitus. 

[THE  END.] 

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